


we were strangers

by karass



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bittersweet Ending, Coming of Age, Explicit Language, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:00:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 71,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24032425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karass/pseuds/karass
Summary: "Romeo and Juliet did not know each other. It's the shortest love that burns the brightest. Only the greatest stand the test of time."In the midst of a deportation to his apparent homeland, Ten Li stumbles upon distraught and hesitant Harvard medical school applicant, John Suh. Unwanted sparks fly as they spend what seems to be their last day of childhood.
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Yoon Jeonghan, Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Nakamoto Yuta, Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Lee Taeyong
Comments: 22
Kudos: 53





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my very first work to be uploaded on AO3 so I'm pretty excited and nervous to see how it's going to go. I know it's probably not the best to write about a not too active ship but this was something I was really passionate about so we'll see! 
> 
> This piece of fiction will be uploaded in three main parts, each part averaging approximately 20,000 words. Strangers is HEAVILY inspired by the novel, 'The Sun is Also a Star' by Nicola Yoon. So if you've read that book before, there will definitely similarities in the story. However, I hope you enjoy it nonetheless, please don't be wary to share your thoughts and ideas in the comment section.
> 
> Find me on! [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ODETO10) and [Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/user/gymewm6sqkr42wxfdibu8612e?si=pY85msJ-T6m5IpJJ-AO8kw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know how bothersome it is for writers to link music or playlists with their works but [this playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0SKXHKKXecXvJAkpMKmYfQ?si=kw3U0IH1SbmVEhYGJcHZ6A) was crafted especially for it by my friend and I

__

_“Love is born into every human being.” - Plato_

☆

**Prologue Ten : Write About Your Home**

That was the very first essay prompt Ten had ever received when he started grade school in New York City. It was also when he first learned of the words ‘undocumented’ and ‘immigrant’.

Ten, young and unjaded, had run into his mother’s arms with his Salvation Army navy blue puffy parka still clinging on to him, he was met with a feverish expression etched on to his mother’s face as he gave her the sheet of composition paper, smudged and crumpled with pencil lead on the edges.

“Did anyone read this?” She had asked sternly, but it was evident that her wears displayed a different layer of apprehension that varied from her usual anguish, her hand trembling as she demanded an answer from her son, who was unimaginably confused.

Ten hadn’t understood what she meant but nodded nonetheless. Even though it had only been a few hours, he had already began to miss hearing the melodic chatter of Thai he was so used to. He rubs his hands, calluses forming after spending the afternoon on the monkey bars, gripping the rusty metal and swinging wildly on them with his newly formed friends.

“’No mama.” He answers in English, this surprises his mother as well, they had only been in America for a few weeks and her son had already forgotten his Thai?

But no one could blame her, the ominous day their family had arrived in New York City was during the middle of a snowstorm in early December. Ten had only been an impressionable 6 year old, he was told they were going on a long holiday and that they might not even go home if they had liked it there. And as a normal child would, he had merely nodded and returned to his friends to play hopscotch.

The essay was supposedly brief, a minimum of 75 words and had to contain 10 adjectives. And to be quite frank, Ten’s essay was sweet and flowery, his manner of writing was refulgent beyond comprehension for a child his age who spoke English as their second language. If one were to be completely honest, it would have been a beautiful beginning for his artistic career in the future if not for one thing.

He had told the truth the reality of their current circumstances. It entailed the family’s small house back in Bangkok, Thailand and how he missed it so much. How the front and back porch had flowers of every kind and how the smell of spices would draft into his room when his mother was cooking. He wrote about how he would play on the streets with his childhood friends all throughout their summer days and how they would watch an array of programs on their ancient scratchy television set. Obviously his words weren't this fluorescent nonetheless it would be a lie to say that it wasn't impressive for a child so young to write such words.

His mother frowns as she tells him to always say that New York is where he’s from, these highrises mean home, the scary pale men in suits were his brothers. Last of all she tells him that they would never go back to Bangkok, because this was their life now.

It’s been 12 years yet his mother still feels glad that her son’s teacher hadn’t read the essay. Otherwise they would've been back in Bangkok much earlier than they’d hoped.

☆

****

**Battery Park**

4.34. That's what the clock reads on Ten’s phone. He had set his alarm early so that he could skate in Battery park one last time before the reversal. The reversal is such a pretentious name to call something so horrific like a deportation. The boy takes a minute to re-adjust his mind as he glances upwards to his room’s ceiling. He found it obscure how barren it was. Only last week it had been plastered with a vast array of posters from different arcane pop bands and otherwise unknown art exhibits around the city. But that was when Ten still had hope his life would return to it’s usual routine.

But it didn’t, so he had to move on and take everything down.

It’s still dusk and suspiciously cloudy outside, mist clings onto the criminally tiny window in his room casting a faded filter to the room as it was the only source of natural light. But it’s okay, Ten thinks as he slips on an old hoodie of his father’s and changes into the only pair of jeans that he didn't pack. The hoodie is lilac and it's probably the most comforting thing Ten owns, not just because it was his dad’s but because it's something that's made of the softest cotton he’s ever touched. It's essentially perfect for a sad and gloomy day like today. As he gathers up his things, he neatly untangles his knotted earphones and pops them in his ear, making sure they don’t interlace with the plethora of piercings on his ears. He walks inaudibly out of his room and out the apartment door, careful not to knock over the stack of boxes that had been piled up on the corner of their makeshift living room and disrupt everyone else’s sleep.

Ten decides that it’s a mellow pop rock kind of day, so he blasts The 1975’s debut album on full volume as he skates from the old building his family lives in to the closest subway station to take an early morning train to the other side of Manhattan. It’s a bleak and bitter Saturday morning and no one but the homeless man who resided there was at the station. Afterall, it’s the beginning of the weekends and everyone is either resting up from a vibrant night out or preparing to head out for another day at work. In spite of the silence, Ten enjoys it, because albeit his chatty nature, he loves spending time with himself on solemn mornings when the city is barely vigilant.

The ride is supposed to take an hour so Ten spends it scrolling through his social media soundlessly, he isn’t paying any mind to any of the individual posts as he double taps every single picture on his feed. He feels numb and haggard, he can’t even feel guilty for wasting his data on watching cat videos on Youtube because he knows he'll be in a different country by tomorrow morning; well he’d still be on a plane but the same difference. In the midst of browsing through his ancient Facebook posts from years back, he receives a message from his small group chat of friends, an oddity that they were awake at this time of day.

 **sichengzz**  
fuck ten’s leaving today  
I CANT DO THIS  
IM GOING TO UR APARTMENT NOW

 **yutato**  
Calm down babe :<  
He said he wanted to spend today alone  
PLUS, we already spent the whole day together yesterday

 **sichengzz**  
oh stfu yutato.  
TEN PLZ RESPOND  
I LEGIT CANT SLEEP

 **kunt**  
Sicheng, it’s 5 am and we promised Ten that we won’t talk about this today ;/

 **do old**  
JESUS christ it's 5 ok sicheng  
let ten sleep or smthn  
we’ll still see him tonight you know

Needless to say, Ten can’t help but blush as he reads the hoard of messages his friends had sent, he knows that his gallery will be filled by the pictures that Yuta is constantly sending to the chat. He used to hate the spam of the Shrek memes and crying cat stickers, but now he can’t bear to delete any of them at this point. Although he’d never admit it to their faces, he knows that he’ll miss all of them so much. For despite their constant repetitive banter and bickering, he could always tell them anything. Well most things at least. Ten can’t describe how grateful he is to have such a tight-knit group of friends by his side through all of this.

Ten can’t deny how pleased he is that no one else was in the subway because Ten would sincerely die before being caught smiling in public. There are numerous reasons for this, some of which include due to his overwhelming amount of ego he had and how much he cared about the image he presented to the world.

 **ten outta ten**  
Im awake fyii  
Im otw to battery park rn  
Gonna skate for the last time  
SICHENG DONT BARGE IN  
Ik my moms not gonna kill u  
But like just dont  
I'll call you guys later  
bye. Love you all h0es

As Ten marches out of the subway and into the outside world, his teeth begin to chatter. He feels really stupid for only wearing a sweater and hoodie in early December when he clearly knows that New York winters are no joking matter. And as he places his skateboard to the pavement, he quickly stuffs his hands inside his pockets and glides quickly to the ramp in the park that he’s spent so many hours at.

It’s empty, no surprise there, except for a few people relaxing and drinking steaming hot cocoa after finishing their overnight shifts at work. So Ten takes advantage of it, he tries to do some tricks and go up and down the different skating slopes until he gets bored. He lets the wind swallow him whole and rob his cares away from him. Ten falls a few times but he thinks that he doesn't fall as often as he used to. Considering the fact that Ten never actually learned how to skateboard, he thinks he’s gotten a lot better from when he started to skate. He sends a silent thank you to the older boys who played after school with their formidable custom boards that they decorated themselves that inspired him to take it up as a hobby.

Ten remembers asking for one when he was 12 when times were much simpler and the problems he was currently facing were essentially unheard of. He had been declined then, mainly due to his mother who’s main line of defence was that she was worried that her son would get hurt. It’s funny how he’s been hurt by life more than he has been during his skating escapades. But his father on the other hand had listened to his wishes. That night he had bought one for him and had given it to him after his mother and sister were still asleep in the early dawns of the morning.

Tears prick his eyes. Ten didn't expect to think about his dad today, but it’s inevitable he supposes. He’s been tiptoeing around the topic for the past god knows how long. The memory of his dad is somehow still so fresh and raw despite the fact that it's been 2 years. It’s funny because Ten didn’t flinch when he heard his mother say that this Saturday is the last day to hold on to crumpled bits of the past and tomorrow is when they will begin their future. He found it ironic how it was exactly what his father had said the night before they had left for New York City. In a sense it’s the memories we value the most that hurt the most when we recollect ourselves.

“Shit.” Ten mutters quietly as he puts down his skateboard, he's standing on top of the largest slope in the park, looking down on Manhattan’s early morning gloom. He sits down and stuffs his hands inside his hoodie, rubbing his palms hesitantly to create some friction.

Ten glances up at the sky, the moon's still visible but the sky's already turning a lighter shade, shifting from an inky black to a dark purple. He’d never been much of a religious person but he closes his eyes and prays for a miracle. He doesn’t want to leave New York, it’s been home to him for so long. Thailand has become almost foreign to him, he hadn’t visited since he had left 12 years ago in fear of not being able to return to the US. Sure his mother still cooks traditional food at home and he hears the language in the crevasses of his community in Harlem. But even so his connection to his homeland has turned rather stiff despite the fact that his parents owned a Chinese-Thai restaurant and having grown up back there.

Suddenly someone sits down beside him, he has the most gossamier brown hair and bangs that form a heart-like shape. He's wearing a Harvard hoodie and is seemingly extremely tall, if Ten had to guess, this guy definitely had to be more than 6 feet tall. He looks inexplicably tired, having massive dark circles underneath his eyes. He held a cup of coffee in one hand and the other gripping on to a satchel that seems to be as equally worn out as Ten's hoodie. He can’t be more than 18. And even Ten can’t deny that he has an undeniable charm to him.

For a split second he thinks that he’s hallucinating but despite that he can’t help but laugh. Ten laughs because he’s convinced that the universe is toying with him. He clearly asked for a saviour in the form of a delayed deportation (or perhaps even a cancelled one!) or an immigration lawyer who could shoo his problems away but certainly not in this way. He runs a hand through his hair before making a weird sound that sounds half way between a sigh and a giggle.

“You okay?” The male pertains, his voice is rather deep but it seems friendly nonetheless. He sounds concerned which frankly is the last thing Ten wanted today, a good looking yet nice stranger was definitely not something on the list of things he was hoping for.

“I’m fine.” Ten retorts quickly, having known the city well enough, he is also aware of the fact that you should never interact with a stranger, no matter how attractive they are, especially when you’re in a relatively quiet area of the city. He stands up and is ready to leave when the male tilts his head onto his own shoulder and stretches his long legs.

“Well you just laughed randomly so I assumed you weren’t?” He comments, flashing a small grin at Ten, “I’m Johnny Suh.” He adds as he throws out a hand, expecting Ten to shake it.

“Huh, well you're certainly not from around here.” Ten scoffs before heading to place his board to the ground, preparing to skate off, “Note, don’t tell people your full name here or anything else, you’ll look suspicious,”

“You're right, I'm from Flushing.” Johnny smiles again. Ten doesn't understand why a stranger is so unbelievably persistent in having a conversation with him. Was this death calling out for him? Because Ten doesn't think he deserved such a heavenly way to die.

“You're fucking insane.” Ten shoots back, trying to hide his embarrassment and deflecting the token smile.

“If you think that I’m kinda suspicious, you can look at my Instagram, maybe I’m friends with someone you know? It’s a wild try but why not?” Johnny counters, not budging a single bit, he’s so intent on trying to strike up a conversation with Ten, “It’s johnnysuhphotos.”

And Ten does, at this point, he decides that he’s going to give up on what he wanted and that he’s going to let the universe do its work without any interruptions. Maybe this Johnny Suh guy was a bajillionaire and could make him stay in America for some apparent reason. In another universe Ten will leave Johnny to his thoughts and run off to tour his favorite museums for the day. But Ten can’t. He can't ignore how lonely and assailable he is right now. The last thing he needs is to be alone. So he types out Johnny’s username with a scowl on his face, there's no harm in searching for it. Well he doesn’t think so. But perhaps he’s wrong.

“Wait. You know Kim Doyoung?” Ten inquires, his right eyebrow is raised and he’s painted with a mixture of amusement and surprise.

Now one might be wondering who is this Kim Doyoung? Or maybe not, depending on his relevance to this story. But nonetheless it might be easier to recognize his contact name from Ten’s phone, it being a pun on his name, ‘do old’. And as the world comes in clutch for them as hidden chains of relationships unfold, so does the chance of them becoming friends increase at the same time.

“Yeah. He’s my mom’s friend’s kid, he's a bit younger than me. We go to the same church.” Johnny explains inadvertently as he spreads out his arms, he seems far too composed in Ten’s opinion. But maybe that was because he wasn’t about to have his life turned around, he thinks before he adds, “You know him?”

“He’s my best friend. We go to school together.” Ten justifies, one hand wrestling with his many earrings splattered like blotches of paint on a canvas on his ear, “You’re older than I am then.”

“I’ll take it.”

“Are you a college freshman?”

“No, I'm a senior in highschool, I suppose you are too?”

“Yeah.” Ten nods briefly before sitting down beside Johnny, he’s hesitant but he takes up the space next to the male, he crosses his legs yet he still shivers from the harsh winter breeze slapping him continuously.

“You want a hot pack?” Johnny offers as he takes a sip of his styrofoam (Ten scoffs again at this) cup of coffee, whether he burned his tongue or not, Ten doesn’t know and he frankly doesn’t care.

“What the hell is that? A drug?” Ten asks jokingly before he eyes the lump in Johnny’s jean pocket to make sure his scornful prediction was indeed false. He’s an overthinker, he always thinks of all these make-believe situations that have near to no possibility of coming true.

“No, it’s this Korean thing, basically you just open it and the iron inside reacts with the surrounding oxygen creating iron oxide and heat, making the pouch hot.” Johnny gestures his hands as he pops open a pack, steam begins to form around it before handing it to the Thai male. Ten notices Johnny's outward movements but he keeps his lips pursed.

“Thanks, nerd.” Ten says as he cups the pack between his hands, he feels toastier and slightly more alive as the heat fissures through his hand, “I’m Ten by the way.”

“Wait, like the number?” Johnny asks, his tone isn't rude or anything, if anything tinged with curiosity. His eyes squint at a nearby coffee cart before he pulls out another hot pack from his left pocket. It seems that Johnny’s also feeling a bit chilly.

“Yes, like the number.” Ten responds, he’s used to this sort of avid reaction, “My real name is Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul, but just call me Ten.” He adds quickly to avoid another look of confusion from the older male. Ten knows that no one can catch it so he’s not fearful of letting slip of his surname.

“Oh wow, okay, I didn’t catch that at all.” Johnny blinks twice, laughing to mask how he’s caught so off guard. “I’ll just call you Ten then, but honestly don’t get why you wouldn’t say it to people, it’s different but it’s beautiful. I’m positive that no one else in the world has the same name as you do.”

These words are new to Ten, especially in this format of addressing, they're something he’s not used to. And at this, Ten can’t help but feel his cheeks light aflame, he hates how easily he gets flattered by the most intrinsic and basal compliments. He knows he’s selling himself cheap to Johnny but he can’t help but feel something at the cusp of it all, with his friends always making fun of his incredibly lengthy and intricate name. So when this mere stranger does the opposite he can’t help but feel something.

“Well I don’t want to hear people butcher it so I just call myself Ten, it’s easier anyways.” He shrugs it off, pretending that Johnny’s felicitation meant nothing to him. The Thai boy could never let other people accept the satisfaction of exalting him.

“Alright then _Ten_ , are you okay?” Johnny questions, continuing his original tangent, he emphasizes the younger’s name and Ten himself laughs a half hearted laugh, this guy acts like he didn’t have a single care in the world. He wishes he can feel the same.

“No, I’m not.” Ten laughs, it feels weird to talk to someone you don’t know about how you feel, it reminds him of the countless visits to the counsellor’s office that he made after his father’s passing, just much more complaisant and far less professional. But he sure hoped it would work better. “Everything’s going to hell.”

“What do you mean?” The older male asks, he’s curious for no apparent reason but Ten doesn’t want him to stop him from talking, “School stuff? Home stuff or..?”

“Everything.”

It’s now Johnny’s turn to cock his eyebrow in befuddlement and Ten can’t blame him. It’s been almost 4 months and he still doesn't have the gravitas to wrap his head around the entire incident quite yet.

“To cut things short, someone fucked up, really bad at that, and now I have to pay the consequences.” Ten ignores his question, he wasn’t about to tell the tale of what happened in September to this stranger.

“Well that sucks, but I get what you mean.” Johnny answers after a short pause, a soft smile still painted on his lips. Ten’s irritated at how he’s still so optimistic despite the crappy weather and how shitty the world is.

The next hour or so goes along like that, them sitting in silence watching the Sun rise from the east to the west side of the shore of the beach. That's the thing Ten liked about Battery Park, it's till so beautiful and fluorescent yet bursting with the benefit of being far less crowded than Central Park. Ten likes how he doesn't have to acknowledge annoying tourists who paus every five minutes to take another goddamn selfie and actually skate or draw in peace without constant blabbering playing on loop in the back of his mind.

Occasionally one of them would say a word or ask a question, and the other would answer it succinctly and then they would resume to their complicit muteness. Ten thinks of himself as an ambivert veering on the path of becoming an extrovert and he could tell Johnny was too but the fact they could sit there without a substantial conversation at play was something he needed. Suddenly, he feels a shift beside him.

“Hey, I’m also having a shitty time, let’s get some coffee. My treat.” He says after a few seconds, extending a hand to Ten as he stands up from the cold concrete slope.

It’s hard to believe that Johnny is someone who's got problems considering the curious amount of positive things uttered from the older boy’s mouth. Ten ignores Johnny’s proposition for a bit as he stares at Johnny’s hand, it’s attested that it’s much larger than his and slightly callused, probably from doing sports, he seems like he’s the sort to be into basketball. However, it doesn’t take much before Ten stands up himself.

Ten takes his hand, he has nothing to lose.

☆

****

**Dirty Laundry**

Johnny Suh has always listened to his parents. He’s the sort of son that all the moms at church wanted to have. He did his chores, took part in band and in a sport yet managed to be in 4 AP classes from the time he was a freshman in highschool. And who could possibly forget his charming demeanour. Needless to say, it was common knowledge that Johnny Suh was the ideal son to all the moms and dads of the Korean community of Flushing, New York City.

Or so everyone thought, Johnny was raised knowing he would have to eventually become a doctor like his grandfather in South Korea. But he’s also always known that he could never actually drag himself to enroll in a prestigious med school and take on a profession so intimidating and so downbeat. He figured he would eventually tell his mother or perhaps even change his mind or that he’ll sober up from his delusions. But he was wrong of course, because it was the night before his interview with a Harvard alumni (Best school, top school!) and his mouth was still sealed tight.

“Eat more! Tomorrow you have interview.” His mom whines as she piles more galbi roast on top of her son’s plate, “I know you're nervous but appa made it for you.” She mentions in hopes that perhaps the additional information that his father made it especially for him would convince him to eat more.

Johnny nods as he reluctantly picks up another piece of grilled meat with his chopsticks and brings it to the sauce pot that was filled with a sauce a name he can't quite put his finger on. He feels more than nervous as he drags the slice to his mouth but not for the reason his parents are expecting. As the three members of the Suh family ate in silence, Johnny stares at the pictures inside the frames that decorated their walls. All of which he had taken from age nine up to the most recent one, which was the one they had just hung up earlier that day.

It’s a candid photo of his parents chatting and laughing during Thanksgiving dinner with their extended family two weekends ago, the colors are autumnal, there’s lots of earthy tones as were most of the photos displayed in the house. It’s a distinct contrast in comparison to Johnny’s actual art portfolio that he has, the latter being filled with many lonesome and black & white shots of odd things. But nonetheless, they all still accurately showcase his love for photography.

Johnny knows that his parents have always supported his love for photography, afterall they had bought him his first Canon camera. He also can’t deny the fact that they’d always give him technical equipment during Christmas time. But they’d always thought of it as a hobby, as something to display on his resume or as something to decorate their trophy shelf, not as the center of their son’s priorities.

Nevertheless, Johnny wants to be transparent on how he feels his future would play out. And that's how he ended up three hours later, walking to his friend Jaehyun’s house at 10 PM after his parents had fallen asleep with a duffel bag for the night.

Obviously it would be a mess, Johnny knows that it wouldn’t go well. He knows that he would be shouted and screamed at to the point of oblivion. He knows that he would be called out for being stupid and rash about his decisions. He knows that he would be told the story of how his parents came to the States to fight for a better future for their children (Well, child if we were to be precise) and to achieve the American dream.

That's why he decided to leave a letter entailing his confessions on his parents’ bedside table instead. He also sure to tell his parents he’d still go to the interview but was unsure if he actually wanted to go to med school. And obviously he had to go the extra mile and write about the fact that he actually got an early acceptance to Parsons’ photography program with a forty percent scholarship.

Johnny Suh isn't about to get a doctorate in plastic surgery but even he can't deny the fact that he’s got plenty of wit.

“So you just left the letter and ran?” Jaehyun asks once again as he lays on his bed throwing a basketball up into the air for what seemed like the millionth time.

Jaehyun had been Johnny’s first real friend when he first moved to New York City when he was 7. They had always been two peas in a pod despite their very apparent differences in personality, but people always looked at them in contrastive ways. Jaehyun on one hand has always been popular with the ladies, always being the one freshmen were told to look out for in the basketball team when they entered highschool. He was flirty and outgoing but Johnny knew it was a facade, because Jung Jaehyun was a really timid person who in reality just simply loved the little things about life. He was soft.

On the flip side, Johnny had been the guy who glided through school with so much on his plate yet was still a constant show at Friday parties, and on his own accord at that. He seemed to have time for everything and yet nothing. From the time he was 14 and still in middle school, he had always been juggling between classes, a part time job, at least two clubs and yet he managed to do freelance photography as a side hustle.

“Yeah.” Johnny nods, he eyes the content of his duffel bag, all strewn across Jaehyun's chilling bare wooden panel floors, “I mean, I’m still going to that interview but I’m not sure what to do after.”

“Why didn’t you choose to stay with Taeyong instead, he doesn’t live that far from your place.” Jaehyun interjects, his hair lopsided but he was far too tired to give another fuck.

“His mom will rat me out to mine.” Johnny responds quite conclusively at the thought of his aunt who admittedly could be quite agitating and frustrating at times.

“Fuck, this is the first time I have seen John Suh struggle and not have plans.” The younger male laughs in response, eyes crescent, as he turns to face his best friend, “Maybe take a photo?”

“Oh shut up Jae,” Johnny mutters as he throws a piece of dirty laundry in Jaehyun’s direction causing him to duck and allow the shirt to sail overhead and into another pile of used clothes, “You should clean up your room more, it’s a fucking pig sty in here.”

“I did! I tried this morning and then those two little devils and their friends broke in here and made a mess.” Jaehyun rolls his eyes, referring to his two younger step-sisters who were both 11, before sitting up and beginning to pick up the mismatched socks around his bed.

“They aren’t devils Jae, they’re not that bad you know?” Johnny attempts to humor as he helps his friend organize his closet, a collection that mainly consisted of with ancient basketball shorts, oversized graphic t-shirts and thrifted jeans that had holes in the most bizarre spots.

“Now it’s your turn to shut the fuck up.” Jaehyun chuckles as he throws a singular Ravenclaw themed sock at Johnny’s back, “First of all, you don’t live with them, second of all, just because Mina said that you were cuter than me does _not_ let you defend them.”

“Okay okay, I might be biased.” Johnny responds as he folds a Bulls jersey and returns it to its corresponding place. He bites is lip thinking how things would be different if they had stayed in Chicago. He might've stayed a deluded mess and he probably listened to his parents’ wishes of him becoming a doctor back then. He probably wouldn’t have been introduced with the beauty of photography either.

“Do you just want to watch a movie instead?” Jaehyun suggests as he throws the final sock into his drawers before reaching out his hand blindly to grab the remote to his wide screen TV opposite his bed, “We can clean up this shit show tomorrow.”

“Sure,” He nods as he jumped on his friend’s bed, sure he hated his friend’s messy room but Johnny Suh was not one to decline watching a Lord of The Rings film.

Although Jaehyun falls asleep during the middle of the second movie, Johnny never does. He lays solemnly, thoughts about his future fleeting through his mind like shooting stars, one after another, in the far distance of the atmosphere. Were his parents going to disown him? Was he going to take Parsons’s offer?

Fuck, who decided that he had to reply with his answer within a mere three weeks? Because that certainly wasn’t enough time to decide anything. Johnny turns to see Jaehyun, fast asleep, hugging his pillow tightly. He groans and realizes he should get some fresh air, afterall today might be the last day of his childhood. So he leaves the bed and pulls on a sweatshirt from the pile of dirty laundry on top of his loose shirt and a satchel from Jaehyun’s closet which he stuffs with his essentials, his phone, wallet and an odd book from the shelf to read. He takes one more look at the room and jumps out of the window.

Jaehyun’s bedroom isn’t far from the ground (He should know, considering the countless amount of times he’s done this) and he falls safely. Johnny reroutes his mind, it's too far to reach Central Park and make it in time for the interview so he decides to stick to travelling within Manhattan and its nearby areas.

It’s momentary but Johnny remembers a time from when he was a mere seven year old, he had just moved to New York. In a bout of celebration of the successful move, his family planned a day-long visit to Battery Park. The place was honestly really amiable back then, it was near the water and had small cafes scattered across the park. It was a true contrast with the rest of the city, far from the skyscrapers and rows upon rows of housing complexes. Plus the view had been something to die for. Johnny knows that taking photos was the last thing he needed but he can’t help but feel like it’s the place to be.

“We started there and we’re going to end things there too I guess.” Johnny falters as he exits the Jungs’ backyard and makes his way out to the city, it’s gloomy but it still feels like home.

☆

****

**Cafe Hope**

“Let’s talk about something.” Johnny suggests out of the blue, they’re strolling down a path leading out the park, it’s adorned with trees either with dark amber leaves or with none at all. Johnny looks wistful, he feels the urge to snap a shot with something besides his phone but he remembers he left his camera back at home. “What major and what schools are you applying to?”

“Ooh, switching topics huh?” Ten smirks beseechingly before he pulls out his phone to check the time, “Shit, it’s nearly 7.30. I’ve got to run home, got stuff to do.” His face turns pale as he notices how long he’s stayed out. Ten knows that his mother clearly stated that he’s got the whole day out but he feels obliged to help out at home.

“I’ll accompany you.” Johnny suggests timidly, his satchel sliding off his shoulder as he gently places his styrofoam cup on the top of a trash can they’re passing by.

“Yeah right, like I’ll let a semi-stranger into my home, my mom’ll kill me. She’ll think you’re my boyfriend or something, she always does.” Ten shakes his head before picking up his skateboard and stuffing the frigid hot pack inside his back jean pocket, “I’ll just go with you and go home later.”

“Ahh cool.“ Johnny remarks as he walks to the ladder that led downwards from the ramp’s top before turning his head back and asking, “Wait, you’re gay?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Ten laughs as he cinches the strings on his hoodie, accentuating the depiction of a fat rainbow on his chest.

Johnny doesn’t know how to react to the younger boy’s proclamation, he’s only known Ten for barely an hour and yet he can't help but notice how fascinating he is. With his soft black hair and long eyelashes, Johnny can’t deny the fact that he’s incredibly lucky to meet this attractive stranger at 6 AM in the middle of Battery Park.

“I try my best not to assume things.” Johnny retorts, pretending not to care so much, when he really does. He has a chance, but he brushes it off, thinking it's the caffeine fucking with his mind at this time of day.

“Oh really? Because the entire population of my highschool literally told me that they knew I was gay because I exerted 'gay vibes' when I came out.” Ten states nonchalantly as he remembers the day. Looking back, Ten wishes he had done something more than just swallow his sadness and act like nothing was wrong. He cried to Sicheng that night. It was one of the only times he’s ever broken down in front of someone. "Like what the fuck does that mean?"

“That’s fucked up, I’m glad no one said that to me when I came out to my friends.” Johnny states as he feels himself shiver slightly, it’s clear that he’s unnerved as he hears Ten’s tale. But to be fair, Johnny has only told 5 people but even so he can’t help but feel beyond grateful that they didn’t say anything homophobic or just blatantly rude. Although it's also worth mentioning that Johnny states this to indicate his preference as a hint that he’s interested in Ten.

“Wait, hold up. Johnny Suh isn’t straight?” Ten asks, voice dripping in rancor as he pauses mid-step, “I would never have guessed.” He gapes and feigns a look of shock at the taller male’s revelation.

Johnny shakes his head as he notices the Thai male’s motive, he shoves Ten to the side jokingly before correcting him, “I’m bi for your information.”

It’s an electrifying feeling, to be so bare and honest about this matter. Johnny has always been quiet about his sexuality for years and he’d only told a few people about this but he’s just outed himself in front of someone he barely knew. It feels like somebody has just lifted the weights off his shoulders and he could finally breathe.

“I know I don’t exactly act the part.”

“I wouldn’t say so.” Ten argues as they finally exit Battery Park, he finds a diner with a flow of customers in and out of the front door not more than a few hundred feet and points at it, “You literally exude bisexual energy.”

“How? Because deadass, Jaehyun said he didn’t expect it all.” Johnny lifts an eyebrow, wanting to hear more about how Ten could’ve predicted it.

“Who the fuck is Jaehyun?” Ten asks, quipping his head to face Johnny as they walk across the street, “You know what that’s irrelevant, because honestly this bitch has the worst gaydar.”

“Jaehyun’s my best friend.” Johnny chuckles at Ten’s commens, in another world he would have probably ignored Ten’s existence. Or perhaps we don’t have to go so far, if the two had gone to the same school together, Johnny knows for a fact that they would never have had hung out together. Nevertheless, Johnny’s feeling oddly optimistic about the fact that he had asked Ten out for coffee without prior prompts. “What’s a gaydar?”

“A gaydar’s basically your 7th sense.” Ten answers, examining the large billboard that had the writing ‘Hope Diner’ in neon lights, “You’re what, 18? You should be able to dissect it yourself, for fuck’s sake, I think it’s self-explanatory.”

“Oh shut up.” Johnny groans pretending to be sickened by Ten’s insult as they enter the diner, “Don’t we have 5 senses only though? Shouldn’t a gaydar be the 6th sense then?”

The diner is the sort that Ten aspires to open a couple decades down the road when he would be too old to teach kids how to dance or whatever youthful profession he intended to take on. Some of the walls are painted beige and ecry whereas a few of them were decorated in a mint green Victorian floral wallpaper. Large full-size window sills furnished the north wall of the diner allowing a full frontal display of the Manhattan street that the cafe was located at. The homey scent of cinnamon, french toast and hot chocolate wafts into Ten’s nostrils, the kind that Yuta’s mom would make when Ten would stay over.

It’s a relief to be indoors once more and away from the cold winter weather. Ten scans the cafe, to make sure that no one he knowsis there. He smiles when he doesn’t recognize anyone. The amount of times he's been interrupted by his friends or past hookups when he’s out and about is seriously disheartening. Plus, he really did hope today would be an empty sort of day, perhaps tongues and legs intertwined without their hearts being convulated. Johnny's great looking and he probably won’t mind.

“I said the 7th sense so it’s the 7th sense.” Ten asserts, incapable of admitting his defeat in this mini debate, “Do you want the window seat?” He’s entertained though, he hasn’t thought of his impending deportation in an hour now.

“Sure.” Johnny beams, the word seemingly enough to answer both Ten’s statement and proposition.

The moment the two find themselves seated opposite to one another at the window booth, a waiter immediately makes a beeline to where they are. At first sight, the waiter looks slightly familiar, he’s an Asian male with rather long dyed silver hair. Upon closer examination, Ten realizes the person bears more than familiar features and reflects those of someone he knows. But it’s only when he’s a few feet away that Ten notices who the male is. Ten bites his tongue as he sees the figure of his close friend, Nakamoto Yuta.

Yuta has been Ten’s classmate for as long as he’s lived in New York City and it isn't that far fetched of an assumption that he knows Ten better than himself. The two have spent so much time together since they were young that it's an anomaly for people who knew the two of them to see one without the other. Yuta has probably attended more of Ten’s dance recitals & accompanied him to more art exhibits than the latter's own mother. He also knows more about Ten’s relationships than Ten would like but even that couldn’t prepare his best friend’s mouth from falling to the floor at the sight of him and this dashing stranger.

Ten leaps to action as he jumps out of his seat and drags Yuta with him to the very back of the diner, away from Johnny and the rest of the customers. A million thoughts began to rush through his head, Yuta would certainly tell Sicheng? He loves the Chinese boy but he could be such a blabber mouth at times especially when pressured not to say a word. Ten knows that he would most definitely snitch to Kun who’d eventually tell Doyoung. In other words, it’s easy to see that he’s truly fucked.

“Dude, you didn’t want to hang out with us because you have a boyfriend?” Yuta demands in bewilderment, hand covering his mouth dramatically causing Ten to slap it away.

“No, for fuck’s sake, I would’ve told you guys already if I had a boyfriend _that_ good looking.” Ten mutters as he notions at Johnny with his head, the male in question scrolling through his phone. “Look I was going to spend today alone but I met this guy at the park while I was skateboarding and he asked me out.”

“Damn, that's definitely not something I expect you to pull.” Yuta smirks, his curiosity are piqued, his eyes are glinting with his signature sense of mischief like a sly fox. "Is it because he's cute?"

“Are you fucking blind? Of course he is, I mean he’s ten times better than that turd you call a boyfriend.” Ten grins back in response as the two peep at Johnny who's' now running a hand through his reddish brown hair.

“Shut up, Sicheng isn't that bad. He’s probably at best, a crumpled piece of newspaper. Love him to pieces though.” Yuta snorts as he removes a rubber band from his wrist and begins to tie his long hair with it, seemingly sick and tired of his bangs falling on his face as he’s trying to get his work done.

“Okay lover boy.” Ten rolls his eyes at Yuta’s love for Sicheng, knowing he’d probably never feel that way. But he reminds himself that Yuta too was once a narcissistic fuck (Still kind of is) who only cared about himself. Things change when you’re in love, sometimes for the better, and sometimes for the worse. But Ten's glad he can say his friend has become a better person after he began to date their mutual friend.  
“You work here?”

“Yeah, I’m trying to save up some money for Osaka.”

Ten is more than tempted to nag at the Japanese boy for not telling him about his new job but he’s been keeping quiet about a lot of things too on his own part so he shuts his mouth. He’s not in the position to tell him what’s right and what’s not.

“Oh by the way, I’m fucking sorry for what I said and did yesterday.” Yuta says as he looks at Ten properly, attempting to catch his gaze, “I shouldn’t have said that, it was rude.” His apology is concise and straight to the point, as does anything to do with the two of them.

“It’s fine.” Ten responds, avoiding Yuta’s stare, he doesn’t want to cry right now, not after the past month being filled with an endless supply of tissue and snot, “You owe me a bag of lollipops later though.” He adds, as he folds his arms tightly, trying his very best not to shed another tear. Afterall, emotions are only for the weak.

“So I’m still invited for tonight?” Yuta winks at Ten jauntily, knowing that there's nothing worrying between them anymore, yet there’s still a sense of hesitation in his words, “Coca cola right?” He asks, trying to reassure himself that there's no hard feelings between the two of them.

“Of course, I’ll literally slaughter you if you don’t show up later Nakamoto.” Ten deadpans at the slightly taller male before squeezing Yuta's left shoulder, “But yes coca cola.”

And that's it, Yuta and Ten bickered, a lot. But it’s incredibly seldom for them to actually fight, therefore making up with each other was always an awkward exchange. Fortunately, they knew what worked and what didn’t but then there were times when they fucked up, last night being one of them. Despite this, Yuta would always remember this meeting for the rest of his life, he’d always remember Ten. Because this was the first time Ten had accepted an apology instantly and without extended exclamations.

“Are you going to tell him that you’re L word-ing today though?” Yuta institutes under his breath. Ten gulps, he ought to he supposes, but Johnny Suh is just someone he’s just met at Battery Park, who is he to know such intimate details? Plus one day dates don’t need to know where he's going to be the next day.

“No.” Ten responds firmly, but it’s only his voice that seemed sure of the words he’s saying.

And although he's only known Johnny Suh for a mere 2 hours. He knows deep down that there's something special about him, in the way that the Korean-American boy makes him feel small, that there's a world away from his, that there's something out there. It’s a strange premonition but Ten has a good feeling about him. Mainly because when he gripped Johnny’s hands, sparks had burst within him. It’s been a while.

☆

****

**Coming Clean for the First Time**

Ten’s always known, he’s always known that he doesn't like girls. Not in the romantic way at least. He’s always known that they don't make his heart flutter like how they describe it in the romantic comedies Kun loves so much. They don't make him feel anything to be frank, they've always been, at most, friends. And without pressure from his mother and father to like any girl, he’s never questioned it. He’s never thought that he was different.

Not until now, just sixteen, at a party with two red cups, one in each hand, filled with some unknown golden beverage that burns his throat whenever he sipped the slightest bit of it. Naive, young and without a clue about how cruel the world can be. Ten hates the person he was two years ago, before his father's exit from his life. He was so dumb and so fucking reckless. He’ll forever be grateful that he’s changed and for the better at that. But with his sister’s mistake, he can’t help but have those days looming above his head like a constant reminder that he's fucked up too.

His head spins as he tries to navigate his way through the dark hallways, dimly lit with neon coloured LED strips on the outline of the ceiling. One moment purple, one moment periwinkle, one moment aqua blue. Ten leans over to vomit in a random bag that decorated the rack of coats at the door, ignoring the possible consequences. His eyes are blind to the Louis Vuitton logo on the front of the bag as he begins to wipe the corners of his mouth with his sleeves.

How he ended up here, he’s unsure, what he knows is that he’s sick and he can’t find Yuta to bring him home. Sick and drunk beyond measure, he finds an empty spot underneath the dining table and crouches down. He buries his head in his hands and he cries. He cries because he’s burned out, he cries because he’s confused. He cries because he refused yet another date with a girl from school.

What’s wrong with him? He feels like something just isn’t right. A hand extends from above the table, one bearing too many ratty bracelets and rusty bangles to count, nails painted a black polish. It’s not hard for Ten to deduce that it’s Yuta. Ten has no choice but to accept the hand and let it help him up. He wipes his eyes with his other sleeve, making sure not to mix rancid puke with his tears. His eyes are bloodshot and wary as Yuta tilts his head on his own shoulder, confused at the sight of his usually tough best friend breaking down. The slightly more sober boy wants to open his mouth and say something but he purses his lips, knowing that whatever they would share that night would be forgotten the morning after.

Instead Yuta takes Ten to the kitchen, surrounded by people laughing and dancing to the trap music playing from the speakers by the fridge. He opens up the shelves and finds a cup, filling it with tap water as Ten vomits some more in a pot he’s found in one of the opened drawers, he’s still seated on the kitchen island. Yuta shakes his head, it’s odd honestly, over the span of the 9 years they’ve been friends, it’s the very first time that Yuta's the one who's doing the cleaning up, the fixing up.

Doyoung isn’t there as he has to study for some stupid piano exam and so the two basketcases are, wasted at a party, looking out for each other for once. When Ten finally stops regurgitating, Yuta hands him the cup and he chugs down the water like it’s pure liquid gold. Ten mutters a few words of thanks before he gets down. For a few moments, they stand there in silence. Yuta, afraid that his friend is going to end up wrecking Mark Tuan’s house. Ten isn’t sure why the Japanese-American male is still waiting for him when he could be crashing his lips onto someone else’s at that very moment.

A few seconds pass and Yuta places a hand on Ten’s shoulder, “Do you want to leave?” He utters, his voice a soft whisper amongst the loud screams and singing that shone over his words. Ten nods eagerly and Yuta winces. 

Ten can see the former's eye shine with hope, praying that he would say he was fine and they could stay at the party until midnight (or perhaps even later) but alas, Ten's too sick for his own good. However he keeps his word, he holds out his hand for Ten and it doesn’t take much time for the latter to crash onto his shoulder. Yuta begrudgingly walks to the door, waving goodbye to a few friends and strangers. He’s disappointed, after all it’s only 10 PM after all, early in their standards.The two slump their way to Yuta’s place, not a block away. It’s clear that Ten is staying over.

Somehow, Yuta manages to wash up and change out of his clothes that smelled distinctly of bitter alcohol and ashy smoke. He also manages to wipe Ten’s face clean of vomit and tell the Thai male to throw on a shirt of his from his closet, one that hopefully wouldn’t stain of orange chunks that night. Yuta's frown is manifestly astringent as the two watch some random movie that Netflix has put on autoplay.

Ten is clearly drunk and he’s delusional, he’s humming to himself as they watch the misadventures of Harry Potter and his pals in Hogwarts. Occasionally muttering to himself about how he wishes he had a wand to fix the shitty things about his life. Yuta can’t help but grin when he hears his best friend’s words, he thinks that Ten's slurring is the epitome of fine entertainment.

“Why are you angry with me?” Ten finally speaks up, he’s starting to sober up. It’s 1 AM and they’ve given up on watching TV, both sickened of the constant blaring of British chatter. Yuta is rattled at the fact that Ten managed to form proper sentences. He turns around and faces Ten who’s holding a pillow tight to his chest. The lights remain off as words roll off of Yuta’s tongue that he doesn’t expect. Kisses are exchanged and secrets divulged underneath the sheets.

And although Ten has never and will never love Yuta more than a friend, he realized something that night.

He realized that he loved boys and that it was okay.

☆

****

**Let’s Play Pretend**

To be one hundred percent forthright, Johnny isn’t that surprised at the fact Ten had ran out of their booth to talk with the silver haired waiter. He had a premonition that Ten’s a spontaneous and spur-of-the-moment kind of person. Though Johnny can't deny the fact that it didn't stop him from feeling awkward suddenly sitting alone on a table meant for two. He feels like he is in a position where he can’t criticize or complain about what Ten did. However as Johnny starts to feel entrapped in in his thoughts, another waiter approaches their booth.

The waiter seemed to be around his age if not slightly older than him. He has bright red hair and an obnoxiously wide smile on his face and on his chest is a bronze tag with the name ‘Jay’. He seems nice enough, and certainly far less rude in comparison to the silver haired male who was willing to be dragged halfway across the diner by Ten. Johnny feels salty and he’s not about to disguise it.

“Hi, my name is Jay, I’ll be your waiter for today.” He states beamingly, his voice is slightly accented but Johnny doesn’t mind, he’s more than used to this manner of speech,“What would you like to order?”

“I’d like a pitcher of coffee, two mugs, a stack of pancakes with butter and maple syrup.” Johnny reads off the menu, it seems like he’s speaking too fast because this paints an expression of disconcertion on Jay’s face.

“Wait, slow down.” Jay blurts out in Korean, obviously perplexed by Johnny’s order and how speedily he spoke. He cups his mouth as he realizes what he’s done.

“Ah okay.” Johnny responds in the same language, not missing a beat, he smiles apologetically to the waiter before he begins to list the items slower. It’s something

“Thanks for listing and explaining it in Korean.” Jay responds earnestly in English this time, he looks sincerely grateful. Sincerity's not exactly something Johnny stumbles upon that often but he appreciates it whole-heartedly every time he does. 

“No problem.” Johnny smiles before closing the thin menu book shut and handing it back to Jay.

Right after Johnny finishes his order, Ten begins to walk back to the table with the silver haired waiter, now hair tied in a messy man bun. In all admittance, if Johnny had seen the latter on the streets, he’d probably feel some attraction. But Ten is standing beside him and despite the fact that the latter is in no way as stereotypically handsome or as tall as the male was, Johnny can’t help but fall for Ten much harder.

Ten is charming, quick-witted, sarcastic and so fucking honest. Honesty being the main reason Johnny likes him so much based on the short amount of time they’ve known each other. It's a value that's slowly but surely fading away from his life, seeping out in fissures. The world is materialistic and as much as Johnny doesn’t want to admit, everything's based on numbers. But as Johnny is thinking about the Ten's perks, he gets interrupted by a finger snap from the male himself.

“Hey, I’m sorry I ran all the way over there.” Ten begins hastily as he nudges the taller male beside him, “This is Yuta, he’s my best friend, but apparently, he started working here and didn’t tell me.” He seems distinctly zesty but Johnny can tell that he’s joking.

“It’s fine.” Johnny shrugs before extending his hand to Yuta who seems rather dumbfounded that Ten was behaving quite civil in front of a stranger, “I’m Johnny, although I’m sure Ten’s introduced me already.” He adds confidently to fulfill his quest to make the Thai boy smile.

“That’s brave of you to think that he has.” Yuta scoffs, but it's easy for Johnny to tell that he meant in a friendly manner and that he’s only trying to play along, “Considering the amount of dudes I don’t know who randomly greet him on the street.” An obvious give-away that Ten isn’t one to stick around. Johnny feels his confidence deflate but he tries his best not to show it.

Johnny waits for Ten to explode or to slap Yuta’s shoulder but instead the male in question simply laughs and says, “Shut up Nakamoto.” He isn’t embarrassed, not that he’s supposed to.

“But no for real though, he did tell me who you are.” Yuta adds to reassure Johnny, flashing his pearly white teeth, confirming the fact that he was indeed joking, “But if you mess him up, I will literally hunt you down and kill you.” He adds so softly that Johnny isn’t even sure if Ten heard the Japanese male say anything.

Johnny certainly prays that Yuta's joking but upon further examination at how close the two are, he has no way of finding out if he was fooling around or not. This will come back in full circle. And as Ten waves goodbye to Yuta, promising to meet up later at night and Johnny exhales a breath of relief that Ten isn’t abandoning him to go off with his friend.

“So what’d you order?” Ten questions him, his eyes staring right at Johnny’s causing the taller male to feel his heart beat slightly faster for some fucking reason.

“I got pancakes with butter and maple syrup, I wasn't sure what you wanted so I got the simplest thing on the menu.” Johnny responds proudly as he points at the mini menu plastered on the window.

“I like my pancakes with ice cream but I suppose this’ll suffice.” Ten smirks, personally speaking, he’s always been an alright fan of pancakes with anything but he purposely said that to mess with Johnny.

“Okay, Tennie.” Johnny wiggles his eyebrows before immediately regretting his decision and burying his head in his arms.

“What the fuck was that?” Ten laughs so loud that the whole entire diner starts to stare at the two of them like they’re the newest exhibit on display at the museum. His giggle's kind of high pitched yet infectious nonetheless because not long after, Johnny begins to laugh too.

Johnny really likes Ten’s laugh, and it will always be one of the things Johnny remembers the most vividly about his day with Ten.

“So.” Johnny tries to speak up after the two of them finish their banter about Ten’s ‘annoying’ laughter and Johnny’s horrendous flirting, “So what universities are you applying to? You never really answered me.”

This catches Ten off guard, sure he’d apply to a few in-state universities before this whole catastrophe had started. But he’s been so occupied lately that he hasn’t had time to think about it again since. However, he decides that today will be different, he’ll be the person he aimed to be before all this. He’ll be Ten Li, the bright kid in dance class who wasn’t sour and bitter 24/7. Ten Li had wanted to go to Parsons School of Art and major in practical arts. Ten Li wanted to be a dancer but becoming a tattoo artist or painter didn’t seem that far out of reach either. That boy had dreams, he had hopes and wishes that he wanted to accomplish. And even though he only had 12 hours left, Ten was hoping he could relive his old life and talk as if tomorrow would be alright for a moment. Thankfully, Ten has Johnny Suh right in front of him, so perhaps this is fate.

“I got accepted for early admissions to Parsons, and a few other art schools but I’m mainly aiming for Parsons.” Ten says excitedly, the same way he used to whenever he talked about the sprawling New York City semi-campus. His words aren’t of deceit and they reflect on the reality of his life, well the life before it went berserk.

“No way, I got early acceptance to Parsons too!” Johnny laughs brightly, eyes shining so bright, Ten thinks that there must be a whole new universe within them. Obviously, Ten is oblivious to the fact that Johnny’s future is uncertain too. But only Johnny grins at the thought that they might’ve been able to meet after all there. Ten on the other hand, winces at the fact that a possible relationship has just crumbled in front of his eyes. This is the last thing he should do.

“What a coincidence.” Ten pushes through, still feigning his gleam of euphoria as he eyes a stack of pancakes and a jug of coffee held on a tray heading towards them, “What major are you planning on taking?”

“Photography.” Johnny lies bluntly, managing to do so in such a convincing manner, Ten the doubtful soul believes him, “Thanks.” He says in Korean as Jay places their orders on the table, the pancakes are hot enough causing the butter to melt faster than they had hoped, the scent of the pot of steaming coffee wafting into their radar.

“Damn you straight up just flexed your Korean.” Ten comments as Jay walks to another table to take their order, he pours himself a mug of the bitter drink and sips it slowly, savoring the last few rounds of New York diner coffee.

“I’m surprised you noticed that was even Korean, most people assume other things.” Johnny murmurs, pleased, as he cuts through a slice of the thick and fluffy pancake before spreading the golden butter on top of the slice and pouring the rich and decadent maple syrup over all of it. It’s funny and almost ironic how there are so many racist and ignorant people in a city as prevalent as New York. Johnny can only imagine how it’d be like to be in a smaller city.

“Of course I do, you go to the same church as Doyoung and he literally always goes on about how often his mom tries to hook him up with pretty Christian Korean girls. Do you know how bad he sounds when he imitates his mom’s Korean?” Ten snorts as he wavers his head casuing strands of hair to fall on his face. He tries imitating the way Doyoung mimicks how his mother tries to match him up with people but stops to add, “Doyoung’s ace and no matter how often he tells his mom that, she always tells him that he just hasn’t met anyone he’s liked before.”

“God, that’s the worst.” Johnny quivrtd before he takes a large bite of the pancake, before cutting up another slice, “I mean considering I’m not out and about or anything, I don’t think I should be saying anything though. Also kind of shocked that you remembered about my link with Doyoung.” He finishes before offering it to Ten. He isn’t bewildered by the fact that Ten meekly.

“Oh you definitely have a say, anyone can honestly, as long as you’re respectful.” Ten responds before eyeing the pancake piece, he opens his mouth and he chews the piece quietly. It’s surprisingly really good, but it's for sure not sweet enough in his opinion. “To be honest, if you had been a complete stranger and not a mutual of someone I knew, I probably would’ve ditched you earlier.”

“I’ll make sure to thank Doyoung when we’re together then.” Johnny winks at Ten, causing his heart to thump faster than it usually did. Ten isn’t sure whether it was beating so fast because of the fact that Johnny just openly flirted with him after offering a piece of his pancake or whether it was the Korean-American’s utter confidence that they’ll end up together.

☆

****

**Puffs of Smoke & Their Last Late Night Talk : Part One**

It's around 10 PM and the New York night sky still shone like no other. A harsh wind is blowing but the 5 boys are all sitting or standing comfortably on the rooftop, sharing anecdotes of the past and cheap cigarettes. They've just finished removing Ten’s immense collection of posters and other miscellaneous pieces of paper from his bedroom walls. The task had taken them more than 2 hours and caused more laughter in the hallways than it had in the past few months stuck in between.

First sat Kim Doyoung on the balcony railing, unusually dressed down in a pair of blue jeans, a tucked in gray tee and flannel shirt hugging his arms. Uncharacteristic to his nature, he's cradling a tub of ice cream between his arms. Beside him is at Qian Kun on a bar stool Yuta had stolen a year ago, the former had insisted on returning it and paying the fines but ended up growing to love it. Dong Sicheng is situated on a rickety sofa that Ten found in the middle of the street, reading a Chinese novel with a cigarette in his left hand. He’d occasionally laugh or add a comment in one of the stories they told but today he was in the mood to listen.

Nakamoto Yuta is seated beside him, sucking on a strawberry lollipop loudly. He had made the eyebrow raising decision to quit smoking as he would be moving to Osaka for university in a bid for a fresh start. Doyoung laughed at this when the Japanese male told them this, knowing Yuta’s personality like the back of his hand, Doyoung knew he was all bluff. And he wasn’t wrong, whenever the other three weren’t looking, Yuta would steal Sicheng’s cig and take a long drag before returning it.

Ten is leaning on a broken recliner his father bought off of Amazon 9 years ago, he’s abnormally silent. His body covered underneath a bunch of blankets that they hadn’t begun to pack yet. His eyes screamed distinctly of weariness but it's obvious to tell that he's amused at the tale of the first time they had wrecked the school’s theater, courtesy of Yuta's over-dramaticized storytelling.

It’s a normal Friday night tradition for the 5 boys to take in the view from the rooftop of the complex Ten lived in. They would listen to old vinyls that they'd find at the local record store between the commute from Upper East Side for less than a dollar. But this is all about to change, Ten's leaving and everything is going to fall apart, again. The five boys (Specifically Ten & Yuta) have always been prone to falling into trouble but they’d always had the two oldest members of the group to fall back on and stitch up the pieces & make things better.

However, Ten’s deportation isn't something that can be solved by Doyoung’s grumbling & nagging nor can it be helped by Kun’s cooking & anecdotes of comfort. The matter is permanent and its effects would clearly change the course of all 5 of their lives. No one in their little group can change the Ten's fate, and as painful as it is, life will continue on and everyone will eventually go on their own separate ways.

“You know what, we should just run away, all 5 of us.” Sicheng suggests after a moment of silence, Troye Sivan's stopped crooning as Ten's removed the record from the turntable. It's a rare sight but even the other four have run out of things to say.

“You’re fucking insane, but looking at how things are going right now.” Doyoung shakes his head in disapproval but after a few moments a suspiciously devilish smile is brought to full focus on his face, “I might just pack my bags and ditch NYU’s stupid offer for you.” He points his spoon at Ten before shoving it back in the nearly empty tub of salted caramel ice cream.

“I feel touched that you guys are willing to derail your entire future for me.” Ten laughs solemnly before he looks at the male sat on the stool with a deadly serious expression in his eyes, “But honest to god, if Kun decides to say au revoir to his scholarship to Columbia, I will kill him myself.”

“Hilarious, who said I’m going with you four psychopaths?” Kun sneers causing Yuta to kick the stool he was sitting on, subsequently leading the older male to glare at him, “But no seriously, earlier I did consider us just leaving New York and going off.” His words are forlorn and plaintive but they all know that it’s all a ruse.

“Qian Kun? Consider abandoning his crystal clear and pristine future with his four trashy friends? Impossible.” Yuta sputters out bluntly as he spits out the lollipop stick on the floor, not thinking much of his actions.

“Highly unlikely.”

“No way.”

“He loves me so he would.” Ten claims boastfully before frowning at Yuta and his abandoned lollipop stick, “Pick that up Nakamoto.” To be frank Ten feels sick to his stomach, the realization that his home for nearly 12 years is going to end up becoming a hideout for druggies and kids practicing graffiti is daunting beyond measure. Nevertheless, he keeps his calm and merely tells Yuta to fetch his trash.

“Why should I? This place is gonna be a dump in a few weeks anyways.” The Japanese male states as he shifts his position on the sofa.

“Take that back Yuta.” Doyoung mutters as he stands up wanting to reprimand him before Ten stops him, pushing him back down.

“You know what, can everyone just go home?” Ten says after a few seconds, incapable of facing anyone in the room, his eyes are watery but he doesn't dare say another word in fear of his voice cracking. He hears some protests from Yuta, trying to apologize but they're muffled by Sicheng's hand on his mouth and Doyoung pulling his arm out of the balcony and out of the complex.

Sicheng ruffles Ten’s black hair before he leaves, mouthing an _I'm sorry_ whilst Doyoung tries to hug the younger male. Key word : tries. Kun, however, is stubborn enough not to leave while the others have long since exited the rooftop. But as Ten tries to complain or tries to kick out the older boy, Kun places a finger to his lips before handing him an unlit cigarette. An aberration to the moralities the British-Chinese male stood for.

☆

****

**Subway Shoulders**

The two finish the stack of pancakes and mugs of coffee slowly as they chatter about their lives. Ten’s words are sincere but he doubts himself because he’s afraid he’ll slip up and tell Johnny about the Reversal, with everything seemingly revolving around it these days. But thankfully he doesn’t and instead he lets Johnny speak for most of the time they’re in the diner. A deviation to his personality yet he doesn’t mind for some reason.

“So you take photography at school?” Ten question as he stares at an old lady wearing a muted yellow scarf walk down the street with her two fat Dachshunds, the lady seems to notice his gaze and waves her hand. Ten feels obligated to respond so he forces out a smile to her, biting his lip in embarassment afterwards.

“No, I learned by myself.” Johnny responds as he takes a look at the chubby dogs, he points at one of them and waves, the dog yaps back at him and he grins brightly. Ten feels his lips curve upwards at the sight of Johnny’s faint dimple. But he ignores it, catching feelings is not on the agenda today. “What about you, what do you do? You’re planning to accept Parsons’s offer _too_ right?” There’s a stress on the ‘too’ that neither of them feel positively about.

“Yeah I am.” Ten lies through his teeth, afraid that he'll be caught in the lie, he continues, “I dance, I draw too sometimes.” He continues as he pulls a small piece of paper from his jean pocket, folded into criminally tiny squares. He unfurls it and shows Johnny his sketches and short poems. It’s the first time he’s been so vulnerable and willing to show his raw work. These are thoughts and doodles from some History class he’s never been too interested in, but they reflect him pretty well.

Ten is a perfectionist and this is something that everyone who knows him knew. He would never be willing to show off a new dance routine unless he was 100% satisfied and sure of how well the outcome would be. He would also never exhibit a painting he’d half-assed at the school fair. And most of all, his friends all know not to open his sketchbooks or notebooks, because despite his ego and seemingly narcissistic self, Ten is fragile and is scared of judgement. Yuta knows this all too well, being the receiving end of many periods of radio silence from the Thai male as a consequence to his snooping.

But this time, he shares his context-less designs and words to Johnny. He explains what each metaphor meant, he goes in depth with the stories behind the poem that he’s written on the top left corner. Ten likes this, he never could’ve done this with his friends even when they still had time. But the past is in the past and there is nothing he can do to bring it back. Instead Ten listens to Johnny’s comments and input, accepting it wholeheartedly unlike how he’d accept feedback from his teachers and mentors with a grain of salt.

“This is great honestly.” Johnny sways his head up and down as Ten stuffs the paper in his pocket once more. The Korean-American boy is amazed at the extent of color and emotions packed in such a small amount of space, “I wish I could, like, explain the way I felt that way.”

“Not everyone has my talent.” Ten shrugs away the compliment, returning to his ‘normal’ self. Johnny bites his tongue, because as much as he liked vague and cunning Ten, he can’t deny the appeal that fragile and raw Ten had.

“Oh shut up.” Johnny waves his hand before thinking for a moment, “Do you want to go to a karaoke?” He asks, it’s more than just abrupt, it’s stupid and rash. And it’s not like he doesn't know that interview is in a few hours but what the hell, he seems a bit too sure that things will work out somehow.

“Sure.” Ten says reluctantly but even Johnny can tell that it's a happy sort of reluctant. So the two pay for their bills (“Separately of course, we’re _strangers!_ ” Ten exclaims as he sees Johnny pull a $20 bill from his wallet.) and run out the door. But of course, Ten nearly forgets to say goodbye to Yuta so he returns once more and hugs his best friend before bursting out the door to adventure New York City one last time with this oddly attractive Korean-American boy.

In all his time living in the city, Ten has visited Koreatown more than he’d like to admit. Because of the fact that Doyoung’s favorite barbeque place is located right at the heart of the district he has always had a reason to spend at least one day a month there strolling the streets with his friends. But in all their time there, he has never once gone to a noraebang. And it wasn't because his friends were terrible at singing; Kun and Doyoung both are marvelous singers even if they didn’t want to admit it. It’s just the well established fact between them that they didn’t want to spend money to do something they do for free at Sicheng’s place for free. Sure, Mrs. Dong’s karaoke machine didn’t have as many songs as the local place. But hey, heartfelt 80s Chinese ballads sufficed.

“A noraebang is a..”

“Korean karaoke place.” Ten finishes for him, the two are standing in the middle of a packed subway car, hands holding the railing. Johnny is observably 3 to 4 inches taller than Ten, causing the older to tower of him and Ten to stare at the Harvard logo on his red sweater. It’s awkward but he doesn’t mind.

“Do you know that Doyoung actually sings at our church?” Johnny quizzes Ten a few seconds later when the subway is slightly less packed than before. They’re able to find 2 seats between a purple haired teenager and a Wall Street magnet, yet they’re still stuck in close proximity with one another.

“No way, that bitch said that he’d never sing in public.” Ten says, his mouth agape and shocked that his best friend had never told him this. But even so, Ten's glad that Doyoung is able to shine his talent somewhere and that it wasn’t something he busted out only in the shower for himself to hear. Doyoung's always been a great singer but his somewhat fixed future had always been there to prevent him from going out there and chasing his dreams.

“Well he lied.” Johnny responds cheekily, sticking out his tongue like a child before continuing on, “He’s got a wonderful voice though. He could be a Kpop singer if he wanted to but alas, he claims to have two left feet.” Johnny adds as he dramatically places his hand on his forehead like an actress on television.

“Oh he totally could, I offered to teach him some basic moves but he declined.” Ten responds quickly, shrugging as he stares at his shoes, bright purple knock-off Converse sneakers, doodled and ratty as could be. He recoils as he sees Johnny’s Tims, they must've cost a fortune but he doesn'tsay a word. He was a stranger and had no right in commenting what Johnny should spend his money on. "Hey, it's his loss though."

Johnny, however, notices this, and tries to shift Ten’s attention elsewhere, whispering about the old man carrying a wheel of pungent blue cheese. It works, Ten snickers at the sight of the curly haired woman in extreme discomfort by the drifting aroma. Odd things like this happen on the subway all the time but whenever he’d bring it up to Kun or even Sicheng, they wouldn’t understand what was so entertaining about it. Perhaps it was their underlying cultural differences or perhaps it was their varied senses of humor, Ten doesn't know.

But Johnny on the other hand laughs too, perhaps too loud, as everyone in a 5 meter radius glares at him. He doesn’t mind this however, it's his last day of childhood afterall. Fuck whatever people thought or had to say about him, he's is own person and he's going to act like it today. For once, Johnny Suh isn’t going to care about what people thought of him and that was all thanks to the kind-of stranger standing in front of him. Well at least he’s going to try not to.

Upon his sudden cognizance, Johnny feels a thump on his chest, an actual one this time. Snapping back to reality, he sees Ten leaning on him, half asleep, quite ironic considering the fact that a mere few hours ago he had been complaining how reckless the taller male was for sharing his full name. The subway stops and most of the passengers alight causing more seats to be emptied. Johnny leads Ten to an empty spot and lets the shorter male nap quietly on his shoulder, ignoring the possibility of drool dripping on his sweater.

A lot of things are unclear about Ten, Johnny thinks, but one thing that he was sure of with Ten was whatever fragrance or laundry detergent he used sure smelled great. It’s soft and cottony with slight floral accents, but sometimes he’d catch a whiff of the smell at the beach. It reminds him of that one summer his parents rented a small cabin near Coney Island when he was 10. They had barbeque everyday and he would build sandcastles with other kids while his parents chatted or read books under the sun. Johnny wishes he can rewind and go back to those times, when things were much simpler.

And he does, for a moment as he leans his head on top of Ten’s and closes his eyes. He thinks of the beach, about the amusement park they went to and tries to remember the beautiful moments he’s shared with his parents. Johnny tries his best not to fall asleep but it's harder said than done, he hasn’t slept at all in the past 24 hours. He sighs at this and opens his phone, there are no missed calls from his mother’s number surprisingly but there's a message from his father’s. It's short but got to the point, ‘Come home now.’ Johnny considers texting back but decides otherwise, he chooses to turn off his data for a while and plug in some earphones instead.

He selects something random from his library and presses play, he places one of the buds into Ten’s ears, hoping to wake the younger up. Johnny feels hollow inside despite the fact that he was stuck on a crowded New York City subway car. He thinks that a few of Ten’s blunt sarcastic comments might help. Instead he's greeted with a smile from Ten’s face, his eyes still shut firmly. The first genuine one he’s seen all day. Johnny feels warmth spread across his heart, a reaffirmation that this cute boy liked his taste in music.

But it feels like it's so much more than that, after all everything was like that when he was with Ten.

☆

****

**Puffs of Smoke & Their Last Late Night Talk : Part Two**

Kun never smokes or offers cigarettes.

But Ten takes it, because knowing Kun, it probably is something expensive that he’ll never be able to afford. He tows out a red lighter from his jean pocket that's doodled and damaged beyond repair. But it's Ten’s lucky lighter, he’s owned it for nearly 5 years now and it still worked despite having been thrown on the ground and stomped on more than a million times.

“This is new, Qian Kun offering cigarettes.” Ten mutters, a smirk on his lips as he lights it, his movements are swift and seamless, having done this more often than dropping the actual lighter itself, “Wish you did this more.”

“Shut up, I smoke too.” Kun answers quietly, he sits on the arm of Ten’s recliner as he takes the latter's lighter and illuminates his own cig, “I just don’t do it in front of you lot, you guys smoke enough.” His British accent comes alive at the word ‘lot’, a word that used to be practically foreign to Ten’s ears when he first heard the former say it for the very first time.

“I sometimes forget you’re from the UK, because I have never met a New Yorker who’s used that word before.” Ten giggles as he admires the view of giant skyscrapers and the lit up billboard signs that adorn the city like ornaments on a Christmas tree absent-mindedly. He knows he's going to miss it, a _lot_.

“God Ten, I honestly don’t know how you’re still so calm about this whole thing.” Kun remarks as he leans his back on the recliner, “I would’ve freaked the fuck off if I were in your shoes.”

“Hold up, first you’re offering cigarettes and now you’re cursing. I love this new Qian Kun, should’ve ordered this model earlier.” Ten mutters with a simper, it's difficult to see that he's in fact actually broken and tired of crying because of how much he did this.

“When will you stop being an asshole?” Kun mumbles in response, finally giving up on having a serious conversation with the Thai boy and instead allowing smoke to leak from his lips and seep into the jet black night sky. He looks like he's having his first smoke and Ten thinks Kun looks like an absolute amateur. Frankly, he would’ve commented on this a few months ago but he's too burned out now.

“Never, you should be glad I’m leaving.” Ten grins before responding to Kun’s original statement, “Second of all, I’m not ‘calm’, I’m just done with everything honestly. I’ve accepted the fact that May fucked up and now Mama and I have to pay. It’s fine.” He says referring to his sister and the incident, mocking the way Kun says the word 'calm'.

"No, you're not tired, I saw you earlier." Kun says, his words are cool and collected, a contrast from Ten's reddening cheeks.

“What do you mean?” Ten accuses him, he feels like something has been ripped out, his little secret was now fresh out in the open.

“The place where we met up earlier, the one near that Korean restaurant Doyoung drags us to all the time, that place is also near an immigration office.” Kun continues, it’s easy to gloss over the fact that Kun’s well educated and gets straight As when he hangs out with their bunch of ragtag boys. It’s more obvious than ever now that Ten realizes that Kun has known all night and has been able to keep all this information from spilling out.

“How’d you find out?” Ten asks, he’s never ashamed to bring up the general conversation of the Reversal but suddenly he can’t help but let his emotions take control of him. He's always stated that he's given up on wanting to stay in New York whereas in reality he’s spent most of his time during the weekends that he didn’t hang out with his friends at the shitty office in Murray Hill.

“Google, plus, you held papers that essentially screamed ‘Please overturn my deportation.’.” Kun answers, he tries to be as nonchalant as possible but his eyes tell a different story, the dark amber brewing with concern. Ten knows that Kun's clever and all, being the owner of the last few brain cells amongst their group of 5 but this whole situation is a whole other level of sleuthing around.

“Sometimes, I forget that your mom’s a lawyer.” Ten manages to choke out as he runs a hand through his hair, trying to mask his feelings as he averts Kun’s gaze.

“Ten, if you wanted help, you could have just asked her, you know?” Kun whispers, he understands the general proximity of how Ten's feeling. It's the same kind of feeling when Sicheng was mocked for his faint accent when he spoke, the same ambience in the air when Doyoung discovered that he was being gossiped about by the white kids when he tried to audition for the Spring Musical. Heartache swirled with chagrin.

Ten keeps his mouth locked shut, the only sound that's in the air between them being the sound of the cars beeping at one another at the street beneath them, it's bustling but comforting. Afterall it's been the constant background music at play for more than half his life. And as the two boys are finally sickened by the gap between them, Kun pries open his mouth.

“She could have helped y-”

“Shut up!” Ten shouts at the older, he hasn't screamed in a long time.

“Ten, I-”

“I know she could’ve helped okay?” Ten sniffs, he finally breaks open. Tears pooled in his eyes as he continues, “I know she could’ve, she’s an amazing lawyer.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Kun tries to correct himself, knowing where he went wrong, “I meant that, if you’d ask for our help, we would’ve all helped, even Yuta, I’m sure.”

“I know what you mean Kun.” Ten responds, his cheeks are wet from his tears, but he isn’t bothered enough to wipe them away, his hope has disintegrated, “I just didn’t want to tell you guys because this whole thing is embarrassing enough.”

“Being here in this country without being legally recognized is difficult, it took me so long to tell you guys and be sure that you guys or your parents were going to rat us out to the cops.”

“I didn’t want you guys to know that I was going to try and prove myself as a valuable US citizen when I literally crap on Trump and how shit this city is 24/7.”

“True.” Kun says as he places an arm around Ten’s shoulders and awkwardly pulls him closer, the younger male is stiff and cold but complicit to the consolation he was being given, “But you know I would never rat you out.”

“Well you were pretty damn different back then.” Ten counters scornfully as he pulls apart from the semi-hug, “For god’s sake, you still carried around that stupid accent.”

“Could you please stop clowning my accent?” Kun rolls his eyes as he pretends to be offended by the former’s insult. He purposely uses a thicker accent than usual before relaxing his arms to try and bring a smile to Ten’s face.

“God. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, you twink.” Ten responds grinningly, he's always thought being vulnerable was the worst thing a person could be, “Maybe I would have been able to stay if I had asked Mama Qian for help.”

Kun laughed at this, he thought that things would be completely alright after he made Ten open up a bit. But he was wrong, he thinks as he stares at an old woman dropping her groceries right beneath them causing Ten to burst into a sardonic giggle. Kun felt bothered, there was still something that he hadn’t told him. Because he was ninety percent sure, if Ten had gotten himself a good lawyer, he and his family would’ve all been able to stay.

☆

****

**Bubble Tea & Formalities**

It’s nearly 10 when they arrive at Koreatown, the sun is barely out and a slight breeze blows, a wave of mercy in the midst of chaos. Ten smiles at the sight of no snow, he’d truly be fucked otherwise. Afterall he had sold all his parkas and anything else that resembled a jumper or sweater excluding the one he was wearing at that moment and that pricey coat he saved up for a whole summer for. Bangkok is scorching in comparison to New York City and they would ultimately be useless at the end of the day.

Ten starts to think about his new life that he’d have to build again in Thailand, one without Doyoung, Kun, Sicheng, Yuta or even Johnny. It’s strange to imagine this world he’d have to live in without them. It’s hard to imagine waking up in the morning and not being greeted by the sight of the Empire State Building and blowing off his afternoon classes to sketch the stupid tourists that flocked around Times Square. He’ll miss meeting strangers in the streets or at parties, kissing in the darkness, feeling like time is nothing but fiction.

Unfortunately it isn’t, and the harsh reality is that he won’t ever get this life back. Sure, if he’s lucky, he could maybe reapply for a student or work visa in a few years and get a job teaching dance at Harlem. But where would his friends be? Where would Johnny be? They’d already be far away, chasing after their dreams and succeeding in life while he’s left in the dust because of his sister’s mistakes. And that was perhaps, the worst part of all, it wasn’t even his fault. Life sucks that way.

“Do you want some boba?” Johnny asks quietly, prodding Ten’s arm with his elbow, his eyes staring at a nearby store, painted rose quarts and serenity blue. On a usual day, Ten would groan and say no, in fear of wasting his money on more and more food. (“Once a day is enough Sicheng! I can’t afford to buy you chocolate pudding everyday.”)

“It’s bubble tea for your information.” Ten responds matter-of-factly, Johnny’s eyebrow raised as the two head in the direction of the store. “But sure, only if you insist on buying one for me.” He jokingly adds, expecting Johnny to snort out a ‘No!’ as he pushes him away.

“Sure.” Johnny smiles, now it’s Ten’s turn to be surprised, Johnny never (well in the span of the few hours they’ve known each other) really give in to their banter. To see him agree with him once, is odd enough. Ten tries to ignore this but he fails, and quite evidently at that, ears scarlett as he pushes the doors to Boba Central wide open.

The line’s quite long, so they spend their time waiting in line pointing at the menu and deciding what to order. Ten feels quite guilty, he hasn’t spent a cent today as Johnny paid for their breakfast misadventure despite his disagreement concerning the matter. So he tries to choose the cheapest thing off the menu, a habit he’s knows too well. It doesn’t take long before Johnny realizes this and tells him to choose something else. It’s the first time anyone’s ever said something so straightforwardly and told him off about it. To be fair, Ten doesn’t expect anything from his friends, some of them aren’t as well off either so they understand.

Sure, Kun would quietly pay the bills when they went out together. But no one has ever said a word before about this. Ten doesn’t know whether he feels infuriated or touched, so he settles for mumbling a begrudged ‘thanks’ before it’s their turn to order and head up to the cashier. Johnny handles the ordering, leaving Ten to listen to an animated conversation between a man and his phone. He spoke in Korean, but the accent he bore differed from Doyoung’s choppy Americanized Korean, it seems to be a dialect of sorts but Ten isn’t sure, it could’ve easily just been the way he spoke.

Failing to understand the gist of the phone call, he gives up, instead choosing to examine the flow of passer-bys once more. Looking at people walking on the street has always been his favorite pastime, to see how everyone differed based on how they dressed or carried themselves. Ten recalls how his mother always said that the way people dress reflects their behaviour.

But he couldn’t disagree more, his father was a perfect example of this. Everyday, ever since he was a child, Ten’s only seen his father in polos and button ups and Goodwill jeans. But this didn’t represent his father at all, for when his mother was upset with how Ten and his sister behaved, he would be there. To comfort their woes, teach them how to draw or to dance and express how they felt. Ten’s father taught him that it was okay to be whoever he wanted, as long as he didn’t hurt anyone else. He was this outgoing free spirited person who should be wearing rainbow colored outfits that screamed his name. But alas, society.

Ten hadn't wanted to reminisce about his father after that short period this morning but this time he welcomes these memories with open arms. He's a bit more at peace now, more reluctant to come to terms with reality. A bell rings, snapping him out of his daydream, he expects it to be their order made and looks at the picking up station to see two chocolate pearl drinks. He frowns, he's starting to feel thirsty.

“What do you expect our drinks to be made that fast?” Johnny asks, slipping his wallet back into his satchel as he sits down on a window seat. Ten notices that albeit their distinct contrast in personality and appearance, they at least had one thing in common; in the silence they’d seldomly share, they'd both admire the bustle of New York.

“Of course not, I was just surprised.” Ten responds quickly as he sits down opposite to him, incapable of admitting defeat. “I just realized something, you also like to look at people.” Ten adds stupidly, immediately regretting his choice of wording, wincing painfully.

“What do you mean?” Johnny asks, brows furrowed, he doesn't seem to be insulted instead he's merely curious. Nonetheless, his reaction causes Ten to retract his tongue before thinking what to respond with.

“I mean that you also like to admire the people on the street, look at what they wear, what they’re holding.” Ten reconstructs his words as a man with a large afro walks past, tapping furiously at his mobile phone as if it was broken. “I do that too, it’s interesting honestly, to see that people have whole lives and issues that are beyond us.”

Johnny seems taken aback, Ten kind of seemed narcissistic at first, from the way he spoke and is incapable of confessing his faults. Johnny thought that he was someone who only looked out for himself, and occasionally those he cared for. He thinks it’s a bit rich coming from him, but he can’t deny the energy that he felt Ten exuded. 

And Johnny isn’t completely wrong, Ten’s the sort of person to remain mum when shit is going down but when it entangles someone he cares about, his reaction is always blasphemously oppositical. If anything, it’s almost atypical to see the Thai male pay his utmost attention to complete strangers. Did he think the same when they first met? Or perhaps he only gave a fuck to people with seemingly interesting stories?

“I can’t deny that.” Johnny responds thoughtfully before appending on, “If anything I’m surprised you do. You don’t seem like someone to give a damn about the little things.” Finally their number is called out and Johnny stands up to fetch their drinks,

Ten’s always at a loss of words whenever Johnny opens his mouth, he’s daring for a stranger, he’s awfully brave to call him out on things that his loved ones wouldn’t dare to. But Ten admires it and he can’t argue what’s true, because Ten doesn’t really care about the little things. He’s always been too caught up and immersed in his own life. But that was before, before the incident occurred and before his father’s passing. Sometimes people mess up or things happen to them, and somehow they affect you too, whether you deserve it or not, only time can tell. Deep down, Ten thinks that if he’s repent enough and if he gave a fuck about others, the heavens would forgive him and let him stay. But that's false of course, he is still awaiting his impending doom as of now. He’s only got half a day left.

“One taro milk tea with coconut and one earl grey milk tea with white pearls.” It’s Johnny mimicking the way a cashier calling out orders would as he slides the two plastic cups on the miniature table that divides the two of them. “I love how it’s freezing cold and we’re just drinking these cold ass drinks.” He comments as he rubs his hands together to warm himself up. Ten wants to cup them and keep him warm but he stays put in his seat, rash decisions aren’t always the best.

_Note : These are Johnny and Ten’s apparent go-to orders at Gong Cha!_

“Thanks.” Ten smiles slightly, he picks up his earl grey concoction and takes a sip, “Fuck.” He says, clutching his head as he turns to face away from Johnny, he’s got this terrible brain freeze and a scowl on his face that seemed to make Johnny bite his lip.

“You okay?” Johnny asks, trying to hold in his laughter as he takes a sip of his own drink, chewing on chunks of coconut before continuing, “I swear, I’m not even sure if you’re faking this or not.”

“I’m fine." Ten barks, in reality he's trying to sidetrack their conversation. Ten's the sort of person to say they were okay when in reality they weren’t. He doesn't tell Johnny this.

And so they sit at the bubble tea storefront, trying to keep warm as they consume their chilled drinks, they talk about everything and nothing, sharing laughter and buried stories from their childhood. Ten even tells him about his friends and their dumbest shenanigans, although hoping not to receive judgment from the seemingly pristine Johnny Suh. Johnny on the other hand, is amused, and mainly listens this time, although he’d occasionally chime in on a story of his own about his rather tame misadventures with Jaehyun or Taeyong.

“So there was this girl once, she really liked Jaehyun, always had.” Johnny begins the story, his foot tapping on the ground, perhaps jittery and hyper from the excess sugar and caffeine he's running on, “She asked me out one day, just out of the blue.”

“We went out for a few months and I was starting to kind of like her I guess, then I heard from my friends that she was using me.” Johnny finishes off, it’s not exactly a happy story but he doesn’t seem to mind. He shrugs as he stirs his drink with a straw. Ten shakes his head, bewildered at Johnny’s nonchalance concerning the matter. If the same had occurred with him, he would have probably slapped the girl already. But, to be fair, he would never be caught dating a girl so that would never have occurred in the first place.

“That’s not a funny story!” Ten says as he pushes Johnny playfully, “That’s fucking depressing man.” Johnny chuckles at the Ten's comment, it truly wasn’t something worth laughing at, but he's used to it. Truly.

“How good looking is this Jaehyun guy anyways?” Ten scoffs, in disbelief that there truly could be someone simply that attractive. Sure, some of the guys at the private schools near the suburbs were quite hot (and quite rich) but there is no one in his opinion worth going out with their best friend just to be able to see them. But then again, Ten’s standards aren’t exactly the norm, or whatever the fuck that meant.

Johnny responds by showing his phone screen to Ten, the background displaying a picture of the two friends together at a familiar party. Ten swears he’s seen the place before, he squints his eyes and sees Sicheng’s face, blurry and in the very corner. The Chinese boy holding a bottle of vodka in one hand and the other gripping onto, well, Ten's shoulder. Ten however, was cropped out of the image, the picture merely leaving behind his ear, pierced and all.

“Was this taken place at Xu Minghao’s party by any chance?” Ten asks, somehow managing to recall the name of a fellow senior at his school who loved to wear overalls splattered with paint and smoke weed at the janitor’s office. He remembers attending his party above the studio that his father ran. By some chance, Ten recalls that kids from various schools were invited, and perhaps Johnny was one of them.

“I don't know the kid’s name, but it was at Chinatown.” Johnny shrugs, without realizing Ten’s intent, “I’m not sure, it’s been a year.”

“I was there.”

“No way.”

“Yes way.”

And that’s just more proof that Johnny could’ve known Ten for longer if they had merely spoken to each other at Xu Minghao’s party. But alas, our story today won’t take place otherwise.

☆

**What If-s**

“Another party?” The older boy asks, his voice hoarse and his tone tinged with sarcasm as he holds a cigarette up to his pretty lips. His delicate features are frosted with irritation, it’s a shame that he has a look of pure disgust painted on his pursed lips because Wen Junhui is the word ethereal encapsulated in a person. Sure, his manager had told him not to drink or smoke, but who the fuck does she think she is? He’s only 17 and all he wants is to live his life to the fullest.

Electronic music is being blasted on full volume from inside the apartment building but it’s not hard for both of them to ignore the pounding bass. Minghao’s face is bare and sullen, but he keeps mum, too proud to say another word. He puts down his plastic cup and takes the cigarette from Junhui’s fingers. He flings it to the ground and steps on it with his left slipper, ignoring the fact that he knows it'll stain the soles of his sandals. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his deep magenta Burberry robes, something that was far too luxurious for a poor boy from lower class Manhattan, a gift from Junhui.

“What’d you do that for?” Junhui yelps, as he yanks out his lighter from his shirt pocket and rummages in the other for another unused butt. “That was completely unnecessary, I have the right to smoke whenever the fuck I want.” He mutters quietly as he lights the joint and brings it to his lips, before blowing a ring of smoke onto Minghao’s face.

Minghao fans the smoke away before coughing slightly, and as he's rummaging his fingers through the depths of his pocket, he finds a roll of weed. He snatches the older boy’s lighter, it's got the Gucci emblem plastered on it. Minghao doesn't need to ask but he knows that it costs more than his rent and illuminates the pot, and presses it to his lips. They both continue to inhale smoke and ash as they refuse to acknowledge the underlying dilemmas and unspoken matters between them.

However, they both are aware. They both know they won’t last. With Junhui being a rising supermodel, having just recently walked New York Fashion Week for Louis Vuitton and Minghao being on the edge of 16, a pot dealer on a chance scholarship at a local arts and science highschool. They both lead oppositical lives that lay on both ends of society's spectrum. They both have lived enough to know that fairytales don’t come true and that their hookups were just hookups and nothing more or less. They're familiar yet not. But Minghao can’t help but feel something. 

Junhui doesn’t realize that Minghao, underneath his sarcasm and coarse words, has fallen for him. Minghao doesn’t make much of an effort to tell him either, having pent up his feelings for as long as he possibly can. He knows that if he raises his hopes, he’ll only get them crushed. It's pointless to fawn over someone who doesn’t care about you. But feelings are feelings, and they remain even if you want them gone.

“I didn’t think it was going to be a party okay?” Minghao spits out, still feeling disturbed by Junhui's accusation. 

Honestly speaking, Minghao had just thought that it’d be a small get together, it'd just be Mingyu and Wonwoo, perhaps Seokmin would skip his math tutoring and join them. But that was it. They’d smoke for an hour and get high. Mingyu would talk shit he wouldn't mean and Minghao would scold him. And they'd go home, and Minghao will be left alone with his thoughts in a bathtub, eating Cheetos Puffs in the dark.

But he's wrong of course, he’s always known that Seokmin had a big mouth. Now all these strangers are inhaling all of his stuff like it's grass. “I thought they’d leave by now.”

“Well, do you still want to?” Junhui questions after a moment, when Minghao keeps his lips sealed, the older boy leans over to kiss his cheek but fails. Minghao walks off to the other side of the balcony, trying to avoid the older’s stare. He feels so incompetent, why the fuck did he have to sell shit to him? Fuck Wonwoo and his upperclass people connections, the rich only took and took from the people beneath them.

Minghao often thinks about how much the universe had to do to allow their chance meeting to even occur. They had met on a fateful day at the Jeons' Greenwich townhouse. Minghao had snuck in with a bag of weed through his best friend's second floor arched bedroom window whilst Junhui entered the room in a Miu Miu mink coat. The juxtaposition had been something they used to marvel at when they got high on the plush sofas at Junhui's SoHo crib. That coincidental conclave had been the cause to months of heartbreak and confusion, and an infinite amount blood, sweat and tears going down the drain. 

Minghao doesn’t care that he gets designer shit before their official drop or a semi-relationship with a fucking supermodel. Ever since that conversation he had with Chan when they were both far too deluded, he’s started to think that perhaps it's best to let go of Wen Junhui and get his life together. He’ll make plans to go to university, perhaps even join the dance troupe that Dong Sicheng is always going on about.

He’s so young and yet so much has happened, he’s been fucked around and deceived more than he’d like to admit. Minghao has already lost so much and he doesn’t want to lose his future quite yet. So he whispers the three words that he’s been dreading to utter all night.

“Let’s end this.”

An iron curtain divides the space between them, widening the already sweeping gap between them. Vance Joy's voice is fading slowly but surely as Riptide ends, and the only sound that they can hear was the sound of nighttime Chinatown bustle, meaning shouts yelled out in Cantonese and the sound of people walking hurriedly by.

“You’re not serious right?” Junhui scoffs, his face turning sour with arrogance, “Who the fuck’s going to sell my pot now? Cigarettes aren’t enough.”

And that’s when Xu Minghao’s world comes crumbling down. Forever had seemed so short.

On the other side of the party is a group of five boys, laughing and drinking like there was no tomorrow. They seemed to be around the same age, four of them surrounding one in particular, he's much more meek than the rest, unaccustomed to his dimly lit surroundings. His Ralph Lauren polo shirt unbuttoned as he's swaying dizzily under the neon lights. Kun, the new British-Chinese transfer, seems bewildered by the fact that his new peers were chugging down beer like it was water.

“Are you going to drink that?” Sicheng asks Kun timidly, and although his head is spinning like a Beyblade he refuses to stop drinking despite Yuta’s constant taunts. He eyes Kun’s drink, it’s still filled to the brim with tequila spiked punch, as red as the solo cup in their hands, courtesy of Ten’s fake I.D. It's been a while since it's seen the light of day but Ten figured it wouldn't be a bad idea to show Kun their idea of a good time.

Kun shakes his head which leads Ten to raise an eyebrow. “Have you drank before?” He inquires softly, his words are accentuated by his usual implike mannerisms, as if it was something to be ashamed of. Kun’s ears begin to flush and so do his cheeks, Ten grins mischievously like a cat once it's found its prey.

I’ve drank before.” Kun defends himself before he folds his arms. He hands his cup to Sicheng who quickly gulps down the rest of the drink, “I’ve had some white wine and champagne with my parents before.” He adds, as if his little backstory could help a bit. Ten bursts into a drunken fit of laughter, painting a quizzical expression on Kun’s face.

That’s pussy drinking.” Yuta scoffs as Doyoung shakes his head before sipping his own cup quietly. The Japanese-American male is on his third cup and yet he’s still oddly sober, still capable of making insults that actually make sense. It’s quite conspicuous how Yuta is the group’s strongest drinker, Ten swears he’s never seen someone so aware despite the copious amount of alcohol they consumed.

“Shut up Yuta, you’re going to scare Kun.” Doyoung scolds him, but he’s already a bit tipsy. Doyoung gets drunk easily and fortunately Ten and Yuta always make the most of it, allowing the two of them to get away with more shit when they’re out together as a group.

“Yeah Yuta.” Ten mocks Doyoung’s voice as he sticks out his tongue like a child, “Kun here is going to help us pull up our Bio grades cause Doyoung won’t help us cheat this paper.” He reasons out to him, his intonation is almost melodious as he downs what seems to be his fourth cup.

“No one said I’m going to help you slobs cheat, I’ll teach you but that’s about it.” Kun sneers as Doyoung high-fives him, the other three boys frown as they slur complaints. Tonight's a special affair for the boys, for one, it's Ten's first party in nearly half a year and it's also Kun's first one. Yes, mixers are not parties, in contradiction to Kun's fuming. They'll crash at Sicheng's and in the morning, their bellies will be filled with hangover soup at their favorite place in Koreatown.

“Yah, Ten, what do you think about that guy over there?” Yuta asks later during the night. The Thai male had dozed off for a bit while the rest played beer pong and truth or dare. “Also, Kun finally drank the cheapass tequila, he’s puking in the toilet right now.” He adds smirkingly before nodding his head at two incredibly tall males.

The boys in question are standing opposite a group of girls who attend an expensive prep school that drew whispers from all ends of New York, one that rich foreign bussinessmen and secretive diplomats could afford to put their children in. They're all dripping in branded merchandise from head to toe, their hands coated with matte nail polish and their lips in gloss. Ten’s spent most of his childhood envying people like them who could dress the way their hearts desired regardless of money and time. He only had one of the two things and although the incident that caused the Reversal hasn't occurred yet, Ten knows that he has nothing.

“Who are they?” Ten murmurs in response, rubbing his eyelids, falling asleep drunk is a casualty with him. Yuta should know, afterall they’ve been friends for most of their

“I don’t know, but the guy on the left seems familiar, I think I saw him in Doyoung’s Church yearbook but I’m not sure.” Yuta shrugs before pointing at the taller of the two, he has luscious brown hair and the most charming smile Ten’s ever seen. He’s captivated.

Ten, drunken and dazed, walks up to him, with a smile painted on his lips. He feels numb and cold literally and metaphorically speaking, he’s only wearing a thin graphic shirt and worn out jeans in the middle of September. Careless antics could be to blame but Ten truly felt barren. Something had been ripped out within for a reason that he knows and he isn't about to let it ruin his week so he pecks the lips of the wrong boy and walks away, like a child almost.

Jaehyun on the other hand is used to this, girls and boys alike throwing themselves helplessly onto him, some would return and he’d oblige and sometimes they wouldn't. He doesn’t wait for anyone, so when Ten leaves, he merely shrugs and returns to his animated conversation. If only he had kissed Johnny. If only they could rewind time.

☆

**Throwbacks & Thrift Stores**

The two of them try not to ponder about the what if-s and focus on what they have in the moment. Johnny knows that if he were to end up dating Ten, he’d have to keep it away from his parents but that's alright. He has the right to go out with anyone he pleased as long as they did not hurt him, and he didn’t hurt them back.

“Hey, so I have an appointment later, super important and I can’t go home before that so could you help me pick something to wear?” Johnny suggests as they finish up their drinks. Ten takes his eyes off of the street and quirks an eyebrow at Johnny, interested by his sudden proposal.

“Why not?” Ten asks, purposely trying to mess with Johnny.

“Long story short, I kind of ran away from home.” Johnny states trying to keep it as casual as possible but instead it only leads to Ten being at a loss for words, “I’ll go back later tonight though, don’t worry.” He adds to avert the latter’s distinct confusion.

“I’m not worried.” Ten responds matter-of-factly, “I’m just in shock that the one and only poster boy, Johnny Suh ran away from home.” He continues on before he flings his cup in the trash can behind him. He stands up and brushes off imaginary dirt and dust from his hoodie and extends a hand to Johnny.

Ten is profusely wrong but Johnny doesn’t want to change his mind, for once he’s content with living a lie. He’s pleased at the fact that this daresay, cute boy thinks of him as someone seemingly pristine. Johnny feels himself blush a deep scarlett, and when Ten asks him why, he tells another a response of deceit. He utters something along the lines of ‘It’s freezing’ and Ten doesn’t ask anymore.

“Why do you always call me by my full name?” Johnny sighs as he stands up and takes Ten’s hand, a spark comes to life as they touch, however they both keep silent, avoiding reality being an everyday affair for the both of them, it’s not hard. “I can’t even remember yours.” He sounds guilty and nearly ashamed of himself.

“Cause your full name is so short and it really emphasizes who you are.” Ten responds, the way he had answered reflecting how he thought of it as something so blase, something so apathetic. And as they both exit the store and cross the road to the other side, he waves his hand to dismiss the matter as he adds. “My full name is really long, you don’t need me to remind you.”

“Of course I do.” Johnny snorts before placing his cup on the top of a garbage bag in the middle of the road, he knows it’s not the best decision but he’ll deal with the consequences later. Ten rolls his eyes and Johnny shrugs, throwing trash on the sidewalk is a once in a lifetime affair. Plus he’s never littered before so he supposes that it’d be something to do on his last day of childhood, that’s how Johnny’s been reasoning everything today. “Tell me.” He sounds fixated.

“Alright. It’s Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul.” Ten responds, stating his name faster than usual, “But I go by Ten Li most of the time, it’s easier that way.” And he’s not wrong.

“Okay nevermind.” Johnny waves his hand in refusal before they both make a beeline to a teal coloured shop. There are mannequins on display, dressed to the nines in eighties fashion. Johnny is quite obviously hesitant but Ten pulls his hands, daring the older male to venture out of his comfort zone.

The two sift through what seems like decades worth of various textiles, patterns and styles. Ten finds a dark green cashmere turtleneck that he thinks would suit Johnny but the taller laughs in response and tells him that he’d look like a christmas tree. Ten frowns but he sees it too. They find some nice things buried amongst cheap fabric and fast fashion, but one glimpse at the price tag and they’d put them away, their faces a display of pure horror. Johnny shrugs as he places a teddy bear beige sweater back onto the pile before he complains that he’d rather spend that kind of money at a first hand store. Ten wants to say that he can’t afford brand new things but he shuts his mouth, they aren’t that close yet.

They share laughter as they cascade through rows upon rows of various denim jeans, acid wash and classic blue. Ten rubs different materials between his thumb and pointer, they’re worn out but at least they told a story, he traces patterns on them before returning them to where they belong. He sighs at the sight of such good deals, he would’ve snatched a few things if his wallet wasn't so shallow. Johnny digs through a large pile of graphic shirts and stares at the vulgar images printed on a few of them, grateful that the ink had begun to fade allowing the condemning portraits to be erased from existence.

Johnny picks up one in particular, depicting a cartoon cat flipping the finger, he presses it onto his chest. He does this despite the fact that it’s something far too tight and cropped for him. He does so in spite of the fact that his mother would slaughter him alive for wearing something that represented something so ‘rude’. Johnny only does so to catch Ten’s attention, which he succeeds in attracting.

“You should totally get that.” Ten calls out to Johnny, smirking as he gestures at the shirt that Johnny was holding up. Johnny shrugs in disagreement and throws the shirt back in the pile, leaving it for a stranger to pick it up later on that day perhaps.

“Nope, let’s just say if my mom doesn’t kill me tonight when I get back, she’ll kill me if she sees me wearing that atrocity.” Johnny responds, approaching Ten. The latter is browsing a rack of dress shirts, his eyes trained on a particular satin blue one. The material feels flowy and almost like water in his hands. Ten is tempted to cash out the rest of his money for it but remembers that he’ll never be able to wear it. He pushes the turquoise top back after a moment of consideration, his hope flickering like a candle after hours of being ablaze. Despite this, Johnny notices this and pulls the dress shirt off its hanger. He hides it in the midst of clothes that he’s picked out. He’s unsure why he does so, but he feels pleased about his decision to do so.

Johnny is amused at seeing the younger male at work, showing his expertise as he flicks through a cascade of different materials, from cashmere to cotton and from leather to leopard-print, he sets aside the better pieces to one side and the not-so terrific ones to the other. Ten is nimble and manages to pick out 3 whole outfit options for his vague 'appointment' in under 15 minutes. Johnny isn't sure whether a stylist could do so at that rate. It’s like he’s watching a well-oiled machine at work.

Ten, however, also identifies Johnny’s intriguement, and opens his mouth to ask, “Why are you so surprised?" Ten’s not offended, he knows that it’s bound to raise some questions, it happened when he went thrifting with Sicheng and he’s not surprised the same look of bemusement is painted on Johnny’s face either.

Johnny unabashedly nods, his arms are crossed and his back is positioned against the wooden door that lead to the dressing area. He seems to be entertained at seeing Ten nitpicking through the array of garments.

“Well I’ve been thrifting my whole life, way before it even became a thing.” Ten mumbles as he presses a cross-knit gray sweater onto Johnny’s chest, pushing his arms aside and taking the older by surprise. Ten wants to comment on Johnny’s flat abs but he bites his tongue and continues shifting his way through the vast array of clothes displayed.

“So you’re an OG hipster?” Johnny jokes without thinking.

“I’m poor.” Ten responds, unblinkingly, he places his hands on his hips, he isn’t embarrassed with his life but he can’t deny that Johnny’s cheeks are on fire as he begins to profusely apologize for his misinterpreted response. Ten’s not insulted, he knows that Johnny isn’t that sort of person.

“I’m so sorry. That’s a poorly made joke on my part.” Johnny stutters as Ten continues to imagine how Johnny would look with a plain white dress shirt. But he waves his hand to banish the thought almost, the fit would appear far too formal. Ten chuckles, running a hand through his hair before he leans his back onto a wall and slouches to the ground, weariness gnawing at his bones. Johnny follows in suit.

“I didn’t mean it that way.” Johnny confides to Ten upon realization that there were no hard feelings stuck between them in any way shape or form.

“I know.” Ten whispers softly, but because there’s barely any distance between them, the Korean-American boy can’t help but feel that the words are uttered straight into his air causing him to feel a wave of tingles crawl down his spine.

The scenario seems a bit too perfect, and that’s why Ten suddenly shoots upwards and resumes searching for more options. Ten’s heart begins to ache once more, he only shut his eyes for a split second and he’s already started to panic on possible scenarios. They remain complicit for a few minutes, they’re unsure whether things are okay now. Johnny quips to his head to see Ten with a few more pieces of apparel sprawled across his arms and a coat draped on his shoulder, a smile stretched across his mouth, so wide and genuine. Johnny lifts an eyebrow before throwing the shirt back in the pile and walking towards the shorter male.

“What’d you got there?” He questions him, confused at the amount of clothes that Ten had chosen, most of which are too large for the boy himself.

“You should try these out, for your appointment?” Ten offers, it isn’t very often for Ten Chittaphon to hand out favors like candy on halloween night, but he can’t lie and say that he felt different around Johnny. He didn’t even think twice when he had spotted a mustard cashmere sweater on the aisle right beside the cashier and had picked it up. He had thought of Johnny immediately.

“Thanks.” Johnny mutters, aflush, he picks up some of the long sleeved tops from Ten’s arm and carries them to the dressing room, Ten follows him and he doesn’t say a word.

Fortunately, Ten waits outside the cubicle. Johnny feels a mixture of relief and disappointment, but he continues to strip off his ancient Harvard sweater and the striped pajama top underneath. He obliges to Ten’s wishes and tries on all five of the options he’s given. And if Johnny is being completely transparent, he’d confess that Ten was an incredible stylist. All of the outfits flattered and made him look so comfortable in his own skin, something he's always had difficulty in doing so.

But on the other end of the spectrum, Johnny feels they’re a bit too much. He certainly wants to dress to impress his interviewer but he also wants to give off the impression that he cared but not too much. It’s that constant battle of ‘just right’ that Goldilocks faced at the peak of her problems. Johnny’s not entirely certain he’s got a specific aesthetic. So when he sees the final top in the pile of clothes, he feels something jump inside, perhaps euphoria or mere excitement.

He slips on the mustard turtleneck that Ten had picked out, and much to his acknowledgement, Johnny dares to say that he he looks more put together than he thought he could ever be. It’s a size too small and hugged his chest a bit too much but he liked it so much that it felt alright. The material feels so soft he think clouds are being pressed upon his body. And even if it didn’t, he knows that he’ll bring the sweater home anyways. Afterall Ten had chosen it, and everything the Thai male did, Johnny can’t help but also appreciate it a bit more than it would otherwise.

He brushes the cubicle curtains aside to show Ten his fit, Johnny’s nervous that Ten isn’t going to love it as much as he did. Well he's wrong of course because it's now Ten’s turn to flush a flamingo pink on his cheeks, incapable of showing his face, he turns the other way waiting for the color to fade away before approaching Johnny. His hands find their way up his neck, Ten folds the collar once, in an attempt to tidy the look. But also as an excuse to admire Johnny from a much closer distance.

Johnny has this effortless charm to him, his lips are curved like a cupid’s bow, his floppy brown hair falling on his forehead. Ten stands on his tippy-toes to brush them away, Johnny lets out a small laugh and Ten laughs too. They both feel tempted, so utterly tempted to just press their lips together. But they both know better, so they both awkwardly pressed their foreheads together.

“This is the _top_ right?” Ten hums aloud, wiggling his eyebrows. He spares no expense as he specifically enunciates the ‘the’ in his question. He seems so genuinely satisfied that he managed to find something that suited the taller male so much and Johnny likes this feeling so much that he can’t think of an answer right away.

“All tops are the same.” Johnny pretends to roll his eyes a few seconds later causing Ten to punch his shoulder, “Kidding. I really like this sweater, I’m not the biggest fan of turtlenecks but this one doesn’t itch so I suppose I’ll get it then. ” He adds like a child causing Ten to laugh softly this time, his eyes are starry and brimming with an unspeakable amount of bliss.

They stand like that for a moment, basking in each other’s presence, as Ten wraps his arms around Johnny’s shoulders, pulling them closer. Soft giggles and childhood naivety clasped tightly between the two of them. No words are exchanged yet somehow Ten finds solitude in it, stuck in a Goodwill in Koreatown with a boy he thinks he might have fallen for. The blue satin shirt forgotten on the ground.

Good times don’t last forever though.

☆

**Her Name Like The Season**

Johnny has been in love before. Yet for some reason, he is incapable of admitting this to Ten. He deems it unnecessary and frankly fruitless, afterall, he doesn’t even know why he’s stuck around with this stranger for so long. He thought that they’d perhaps go their separate ways after devouring the stack of pancakes and washing it down with bitter coffee. But he was wrong. Because from the moment he laid his eyes on Ten, his heart began to flutter.

Johnny Suh never flutters, his life is an endless cascade of lonesome black and white photographs of the most barren places in New York. It’s dull and for most of it he can’t feel much, he always has. But when Ten walks into his life, he feels that change. Suddenly colors start to soak into his world, slowly but surely coloring in the sun into a vivacious orange like the mango popsicles he liked so much, tinting the sky a marvelous periwinkle at dawn. The trees seem to be a more vibrant shade of green and the water never seemed to be clearer. And just like that, his life begins to piece together.

Johnny has spent so much of his life behind closed doors, suffocated and asphyxiated for air. There’d be moments, sometimes during the most inconvenient of times, where he would feel like he couldn't breathe. Sometimes he’s caught off guard. In the midst of midterm assignments and weekend photography appointments, Johnny thinks that the whole world is crashing down on his knees and he can’t take it anymore. He had tried telling Jaehyun about this, he even tried talking to a counselor. They all echo the same things to his ears, get help. Yet those two words fall deaf to his ear, because like Ten, he lacks the ability to accept the state of his reality.

But he wasn’t always like this, there was a time, where he felt as if his life was lightly shaded, sure it wasn’t the rainbow rhapsody that he'sf currently experiencing but it was calming nonetheless. For she was sepia, warmth and comfort all bundled in one. Johnny appreciated her a lot, but he wasn’t sure whether he meant it when he told her he loved her that one night when they were out together after the movies.

Her name was Autumn like the season, and she perfectly depicted it if he says so himself. Her skin akin to the color of crisp leaves that come tumbling down from the trees in October, her smile and laughter that brought the same smile to Johnny’s lips as would a new pack of polaroid paper. She was short as he was tall, they were different as could be, but they made each other safe. He shared his secrets and she kept them all, sealed and tightly wrapped inside a golden safe.

Their relationship reached no peaks nor no crests, and they both simply fell out of love, if they could even consider it love. It was funny how something that they built for a year could end over a quiet coffee date, all their memories together kept where his confessions lay. Johnny felt no regret leaving Starbucks that day, he also feels nothing as ecru and sienne begin to creep out of his point of view. It wasn’t that he didn’t notice, it was merely a sense of ignorance. That ignorance would lead to his downfall.

Johnny thinks of her sometimes, he recalls her mother’s Pho and her own stories woven out of her daily misadventures. They were planned and approved by both their parents but when Johnny looks back, he isn't sure whether he dated her for approval or for himself. But he tries not to think about it because those days were golden and he was happy for the first time in a while.

Some part of Johnny will always feel indebted to her, despite their breakup being a mutual agreement they shared. Because deep down inside he knows. He knows that they never truly loved one another.

Love is a fickle thing, especially for two young kids trying to navigate their way through highschool. So when he hears whispered ‘I love you’s in the hallways on his way to his next class, he winces. When he hears Jaehyun kiss his latest fling away, and hears the same words out of his lips. He bites his lip. What did they know about it? Nothing.

Love is complex, and Johnny doesn’t know why people take it around and wave it about as if it’s something useless. Despite having only uttered the three words to his parents and his ex, Johnny still feels he’s taken the word for granted. Because he knows that love is bound to be much more beautiful than the monochrome lens he sees his world though. Love is supposed to bring out the absolute best in him, it’s supposed to make him more accepting to change, may it be in the seasons or in himself.

Love is difficult, Johnny doesn’t understand how Taeyong says that it’s easy. He doesn’t get how his cousin is able to fuck around and catch feelings with the most random people. Perhaps he thought so as he’s never experienced true love? But Johnny doesn’t dare say this, after all he’s never fallen in love himself. He’s spent so much time thinking about what’s wrong with him, maybe he’s just waiting for the right person but even so, why couldn’t he feel anything? Despite spending most of his life in New York, he’s never found home amongst the sea of faces and daunting highrises.

He finds home in nowhere, the gaps between recently built offices and abandoned churches, already crumbling to pieces. After the end of his relationship, Johnny doesn’t think he’ll ever find solace in a person. He reasons this with his lack of desire to want to depend on someone, he wants to be independent and move away to California to attend film school. But he can’t, someone has to take care of his parents, and he has no siblings. So he made a compromise, Parsons, it's a terrific art school and he’d be close enough with everyone he knew. New York is large, and Johnny doesn’t want to give up on it yet.

Johnny has no faith left in the universe, but he is thankful he’s met Ten. Ten is different, he tells things to his face unlike the majority of his friends from school or church. Incapable of stating their honest opinions to his face, in fear of being found out. Johnny’s broken despite his constant bouts of laughter and optimism spouting out of him like a malfunctioning teapot. Both Johnny and Ten are too confident to come out to the world and say that a piece of them is indeed missing.

Their meeting seemed like something that was sealed by fate, seeing someone who seemed to be even more broken than he was makes him want to change. He made him beg for a fresh start.

☆

**In Fear of Being Found Out**

“Are you cold?” Johnny asks suddenly. The two are walking down the main street, right as they exited the thrift shop. Couples are walking past chattering in a mixture of languages, something the two of them are used to. Johnny points at a hidden ‘COIN NORAEBANG’ sign, both in Korean and in English. It’s the sort of place Doyoung’s mother would love to bang on about how shady or how awful they were which only prompted Yuta and Ten to drag her son to more shady and awful places.

Ten shakes his head as he shoves his left hand down the back pocket of his jeans, the other gripping his skateboard tightly. His mind is at bay thinking about Thai summers when Johnny pulls him to the small building. The place in question is poorly illuminated, dingy and suspiciously quiet. But Ten’s seen his fair share of places like this and he is anything but afraid. On the other hand, he’s quite surprised to see Johnny Suh, a boy who probably grew up in a perfect little house with a perfect little family, be so familiar with such a place.

Johnny nods at the young woman behind the counter, who nods back as she returns to count stacks of dollar bills. She has bright red hair, dyed, and a few piercings scattered like stars across her face. They seemed to know each other, Ten thinks. He can’t help but feel slightly paranoid. Did Johnny bring a lot of girls (or perhaps even boys) here? He tries not to think about it as Johnny takes him into a dark small box of a room, with a large screen taking up much of one of the walls. He wasn’t even sure why he was even pondering about this, reminding himself that it wasn’t his problem. He’s wrong though.

Opposite to the screen, a small couch is wedged forcedly in the room. It would, at most, fit 3 people. There is a small cabinet underneath the screen but the glass is smudged so heavily and the room is dark, so its contents remain a mystery. The couch seemed to be originally white but soda and alcohol stains decorated it. Ten ignores it as he sits down, having seen worse. But remembering that these are his only good pair of jeans and that he’d have to wear them for the next day or two, he places his skateboard down and frowns.

“What’s wrong?” Johnny asks, tilting his head slightly, surprised at what he thought was Ten’s disapproval of the seating arrangement.

“No, I’ve got to wear these jeans for the next day or so and I’m not dirtying them here in this karaoke booth.” Ten responds, his arms folded smugly as he stands awkwardly in front of the door. Johnny rests his head on his shoulder, amused, before he sacrifices his small satchel and hands it to Ten, who accepts it awkwardly.

“What’s this for?” Ten questions, confused at the sudden ‘gift’.

“Just sit on it. I don’t care.” Johnny says shrugging, he picks up the large remote on a rickety table that’s just beneath the television screen. He fiddles with it expertly and manages to find a song that he liked. “Wait give me my wallet first.”

“Scared I’m going to take your money?” Ten jokes as he opens the bag and pulls out a sleek leather wallet. He tries his best to disregard the brand name embroidered on it as he throws it to Johnny. Ten wants to mutter out that he no longer needs American money anymore but says nothing instead. Today was supposed to be his last day of normal, and even so, it’s hard to pretend despite it being something he truly wanted.

“No! I just need some coins to insert here.” Johnny laughs as he catches his wallet and pulls out a fifty cent coin and inserts it in the machine beneath the screen. He presses the play button on the remote and suddenly the lights begin to flicker as a soft melody plays, a song that Ten isn’t familiar with at all. Ten bites his lip, feeling guilty to a certain extent.

Ten finally sits down, placing Johnny’s bag beneath him, shielding his jeans from the couch. Oddly enough, he feels partially terrible about it, he typically wouldn’t. Considering how Ten used to spend his Saturday evenings having day long affairs, he finds it painful that this small thing he was doing was actually making him think. Johnny plays an old Korean folk song, he doesn’t actually like it but he wants to troll Ten so he selects it anyways. He smiles as he sings the words, his American accent lingering as he enunciates the lyrics in his mother’s tongue. Ten is hesitant and it’s clear that he doesn't want to butcher his pronunciation so he silently listens and hums instead of singing along.

Johnny has a medium baritone, not too deep yet not too light, it’s nothing special but Ten finds it incandescent nonetheless. It isn't soul-crushing but Ten appreciates his effort all the same. He takes notice of the fact that Johnny is pretty horrific in reading Hangul as he stumbles upon the characters with too many strokes. Ten wants to laugh but finds himself incapable of doing so, because even after he makes one too many mistakes, Johnny still finds his way back to the tune, never allowing his mispronunciations make the best out of him.

Ten stares at how Johnny makes dramatic gestures that possibly referred to what the singer in the video was crying about. He places a heart to his chest and at another point he pumps a fist in the air. It's such a miscellaneous sight that Ten can’t help but feel detached from reality. Because in no other world would he have been capable of doing something like this, stuck in a karaoke stall with a stranger and actually enjoying his time.

As the song comes to a close, Johnny hands the controller to Ten, who seems quite perplexed. Ten hasn’t got a clue what he wants to sing, mesmerized by Johnny’s performance of sorts, he can’t recount what songs he just added to his Spotify playlist. Ten blanks and a single bead of sweat rolls down his forehead. Johnny seems worried but before he can act on his intuition a song registers into Ten’s thoughts, he slowly types out the song and presses enter. He feels partially embarrassed that the tune is even on his radar, but he can’t deny the fact that he actually likes it. Ten first heard the song during a live performance of some unknown band (Day6?) at a rave somewhere and the song stuck like a magnet. He's even forced Sicheng to stay over on a Wednesday night to watch the Nick Cage flick that had the song in its soundtrack. What can the boy say? Ten’s a sucker for ballads.

_“And I’d give up forever to touch you, cause I know that you feel me somehow. You’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be. And I don’t wanna go home right now.”_

Johnny is taken aback when he hears Ten’s voice, it’s smooth and sweet like honey, airy in a sense too. He’s surprised by his taste in music, expecting to hear indie pop that he’s probably never heard of before. But he enjoys Ten’s pick nonetheless, perhaps if it had been sung by anyone else in the universe, he would’ve disagreed.

Ten can’t bear to look at how Johnny’s reacting to how he’s singing, he jams his eyes shut and sings along to the rhythm. The lyrics on the screen are deemed irrelevant, he knows them by heart and sings cordingly. Suddenly he feels a hand tapping on his, he peels open his eyes and sees Johnny, palm outreached and Ten takes it, this time he really wants to.

Johnny brings him to his feet and guides Ten’s right hand to his shoulder and his left hand on his waist. Ten feels blood rush to his face, this is the first time he’s felt truly alive in so long. He should feel terrible for not helping his mother pack at home, but he can’t help but feel mushy and gooey inside. They dance slowly, managing to shift slowly across the microscopic room.

Johnny opens his mouth, the next lines flow out of his lips. Unbeknownst to Ten, Johnny has been subjected to watching City of Angels by his mother more times than he’d like to admit. He loves the song nonetheless, it’s been his favorite since he was young. He even sang it at his ex’s sweet sixteen. In all admittance, Iris might hold more memories to Johnny than to Ten. But their moment are still bare and raw all the same.

Ten rests his head onto Johnny’s shoulder, tired but content. He thinks he’s in love. Johnny is no longer a stranger he met on a Saturday morning at Battery Park but someone he wants to cherish for a long time.

Ten thinks he might have a crush on Johnny, it’ll be his first. And the thought of that is making Ten’s heart beat a little bit faster, it's an odd thing, a crush. To love someone, even just a little bit, Ten’s always found them a bit dumb. Afterall, when Yuta first confessed his feelings for Sicheng at first, he remembers he had laughed at his face and threw his lollipop at the Japanese male. The look of pure curiosity and shock that had been painted on his face when he realized his best friend was head over heels for someone would forever be stuck in his memory.

But at the same time, this made him slightly panic. When he'd agreed to ‘hanging’ out with Johnny, he expected a make out session at the diner’s toilet at most and leaving with no loose strings attached. But here he is, a few hours down the road and a small crush beginning to flutter. _Fuck, this is the exact opposite of what I wanted._ Ten thinks to himself, his throat beginning to feel scratchy as he begins to crave a cigarette tucked between his lips. He feels complete sour and bitterness climb up his esophagus, _vomit._

Ten begins to press at his pockets, searching for a lighter there and a used cigarette stuck between the gaps of the little sofa. Fuck hygiene and fuck these jeans. His hands dirtied with crumbs and dust as they emerged from the gaps. Ten feels himself plummet down a hole as he is unable to escape. He desperately wants to head to the nearest 7-Eleven and waste his last $10 on a lighter and a pack of Marlboros.

Ten shakes his head, quite upset with himself. He buries his head in his arms as he begins to quietly hyperventilate. Fuck anxiety and fuck feelings. He doesn’t want to feel things, and he never wants to feel anything for the rest of his days. 

"You okay?" Johnny questions before he pauses the song, he places a comforting hand on Ten's. It's the first time they've entangled their fingers, Johnny’s are much larger than Ten’s but they both solemnly agree that they fit exuberantly together. Maybe it's just young love or perhaps it might be something that would last forever, they’d never know. But in less than the span of a second, Ten presses his lips to Johnny’s, bodies crashing onto the back of the sofa.

Ten isn't sure why he chooses to do so but he hopes that when he's older and he looks back, he doesn't look back in anguish or anger. Because for now, Johnny isn’t someone he wannts to fuck him and leave. Johnny is someone he wants to stay, for once Ten desperately wants someone to stay. Not someone to call him pretty and kiss him, but someone he wants to be with. It's an odd thing, love, but for once Ten was alright with it. If anything, he is happy with it.

It's unexpected, abrupt and definitely not how Johnny expected his afternoon to go. But he decides to go along with it, he kisses his back. It's his first time kissing a guy, he isn’t sure whether to do it as he would with the girls he made out with before so he lets Ten take the lead. Ten’s fingers reach down to his and guides him to his cheeks, Johnny cradles them and Ten laughs. And he laughs back.

Ten feels like dancing in the rain at night and getting sick the day after, together. Ten feels like New York City, bright and bustling but comforting and homey all at once. He feels like all the colors in the world were at full brightness. He isn’t perfect and Johnny admires that about him, he bears his flaws on his sleeves and is unashamedly himself.

It's a giggly and melancholic affair, nothing but giggles and smiles lingered in the air. It's nothing like the emotionless and sullen times they’ve shared with different faces before. Johnny makes Ten smile more than he thought was even humanly possible, and Johnny thinks the same about Ten. Despite having only known each other for at most 7 hours, Johnny knows at that moment that he too might be in love. Nothing about it felt frantic or rushed, if anything it was as if someone pressed pause on time and let them dream, even just for a few minutes.

“We’re like the Sun and the Moon.”

“What do you mean?”

“We were never destined to meet but we did despite all odds.”

Ten sighs in a fit of cringe but he can’t deny the ounce of truth in Johnny’s words.

Johnny and Ten find their missing puzzle pieces with each other, illicit kisses scribbled on their necks like doodles in the corner of notebooks.

The lack of proximity between them nonexistent, they are _one_.

☆

**The Incident**

“I’m so sorry.” She whispers softly, her long brown hair tousled by the wind and covering her face, however she refuses to do anything to fix it. Frantic, Ten tries to look for signs, his sister never said sorry.

There's a burly man standing behind her, he's got piercing blue eyes that seem lonesome and cold. Ten shivers and he's ready to call his mother when in the corner of his eye, he sees the letters that spell out 'ice' are stapled onto a badge that was in the center of his chest. His heart shatters.

An oddly disheartening atmosphere fills the gaps of the simple room, Ten feels sourness churn up his throat and he closes his mouth to prevent anything from spilling. He stares at the ground, it's been a while since he last swept it, dust has begun to clump in the four corners of the room. He looks at his shoes, worn out to the point of tears, yet he can't even afford a new pair. He quivers in realization that they will leave and he will never be able to buy another.

“Mama!” Ten shouts to his mother a few moments later, his heart pounding on his chest.

She's flipping through the pages of a book quietly in their makeshift living room. Ten doesn’t have to look to know what book it was. It's a Thai novel, one about chasing the American dream, it's one that she’s read a thousand times before. It's the only personal belonging she brought with her from Bangkok and it was the only thing that’s brought her solace that remained with her. Her once plentiful life, decompressed to a few dresses and a single book.

Weary and disgruntled, his mother stands up and walks to the door. Her mouth falls to the floor as she sees her daughter in manacles, tears begin to form in her eyes. She places a hand to her mouth as she sobs onto Ten’s shoulder. All the hard work that her husband had built in the past decade, torn over the span of a night.

Ten has no choice but to welcome the officer into their house. Fuck, why did he have to open the door? If he had simply checked the peep hole first, then maybe they’d be safe from confrontation. He already violated the first rule of conduct during a raid, don’t open the door to them. He begins to recount the measures as he walked back inside his house, hands trembling as he finds a seat on the couch as he lets the thought that his life is fucked dawns on him.

☆

_It wasn’t even a party._ May thinks to herself as her mother shouts at her and slaps her even. But even then, she knew she wasn’t at the right place to say a word, her reckless actions had led them to where they were at that moment, closing their restaurant in the mid October, right before the overflow of customers who came in to commemorate Chulalongkorn Day. She feels a wave of emotions as the officer seal the restaurant doors with tape, it seems so final.

She sees Ten comfort their mother, who's crying as she signs the papers that officiate her promise not to work anymore for the next two months before their deportation. May is unaware whether she wants to scream at the officer or throw herself off a cliff. So she settles for neither as she stares at the tables and kitchen appliances that lay on the street, being moved to the large truck nearby.

 _Reparation funds.Reparation for what?" She would've cried, eyes red and voice unwavering. "For staying in our country, I thought Asians were clever!" They would shout back much to her demise._ ) It would’ve ended with her punching and scratching the officers until she had enough.

As the truck leaves them to their own silence, her mother enters their little abode once again, a part of her gone, perhaps for good. Ten shakes his head at the sight of her, not having seen the act of harassment, he waves goodbye to his mother and skates off to nowhere. But who's she kidding? She knows he's going to see Doyoung or Yuta or one of his friends to smoke pot and trash talk to her. May keeps silent.

She massages her head as she sits down on the pavement, when an influx of tears come streaming down her face. If today was a normal day, she would’ve been angry at herself for crying, for ruining her makeup. But it isn't, nothing’s been normal ever since what’s happened, she hasn’t drank a single drop of alcohol and she hasn’t smoked any weed either, her face is bare.

Why’d she even go to that stupid warehouse? Why’d she fuck up so bad? She’d never spray painted before, only being convinced that very night while high on marijuana and cannabis. It had been a spur of the moment thing that ruined not only her life, but also her mother and brother’s. She wasn’t like this before, Ten wasn’t either.

Their father’s death left a bigger impact on them than either of them would like to admit. They both seemed to switch personalities, Ten going out far less and instead stepping up to take over his father’s responsibilities as 'man of the house' whatever the fuck that had meant. He began to take on more shifts at the restaurant when he could, only limiting his time to go out for a few hours on Saturday nights. He changed and perhaps for the better.

But May herself admits that she hadn’t adjusted likewise. If anything, she threw herself away, she fell for bad people and ran away sometimes. Those nights she’d spend in alleyways getting high off of god knows what and kissing strangers. Her body had began to grow weary and that too took a toll on her, hair falling out in clumps and her skin patchy, but as long as her mind and heart were still alright, she continued to do so.

Afterall, her father was gone. No one cared anymore, her mother only cared for Ten, despite the fact that he was _gay_. Despite the fact that he can no longer carry on the family name anymore and despite his constant sarcasm, her mother still _loved_ him. What she’d done were acts of rebellion, demands attention from her mother, and now she's got it. But not in the way that she initially wanted.

So off she'd gone that damned night, painting walls with atrocious symbols as she shared stories and skin with her new friends. But then the cops had came knocking on their door, and she was left, abandoned and scared. She had no choice but to lead them straight to her home. She's still only 16.

At the end of the day, May regrets what she had done that night with those _strangers_. She wishes that she had listened to Ten’s words before she left and held them to her heart instead of brushing them off to the side like she always did. Because if she had, they probably would still be fine, or as fine as they could ever be.

☆

"You know they're bad people right?" Ten says as he leans his shoulder to the frame of the doorway, blocking his sister from exiting their shitty apartment. He doesn't care about what she's wearing, having already known that telling her what to wear would just push her to go out with the sort of apparel she owned even more.

“I don’t care.” May mutters as she tries to push Ten to the side. She fails and falls to the ground, her feet hurt, probably because of the kind of heels she wore that would always make them bleed and ankles sore. She's determined to leave the house, it being Friday, the busiest day of the week for the restaurant. This meant she could leave whenever and her mother would never realize.

“Well, just know that those same people called Sicheng slurs.”

“Whatever.”

At that very moment, Ten loses all hope he had retained for his sister in the two years since their father’s passing. He had held a small candle within that she would come back, the cheery and colorful person he grew up caring for. But the small flame on the candle diminishes as the same very girl, clad in a leather jacket and tight mini skirt walks out the door, pulling a cigarette and pressing it to her lips as she scavenges for a lighter in her purse.

She was gone and Ten had no choice but to let go. So when she returned that night, cuffed with an ICE officer accompanying her. A part of him breathes a sigh of relief, this act that he’d been keeping for the past 12 years has finally ended. But a part of him wanted to shout at her in frustration, because he wishes he was her. She's still young and Ten can't ignore the aching feeling that he should’ve taken the bullet instead of her.

☆

**If Only**

Everything pauses. Ten feels bile build within him once again, guilt and resentment at himself for falling in love. He pushes Johnny away, his lips swollen, hair amess, his sweater creased and in need of being ironed. Johnny looks confused, and hurt that Ten had pulled away. Ten ignores his gaze and stares at the screen, a frozen fracture of a moment in a Coldplay music video.

He feels beads of sweat form on his forehead again, an anomaly in December. He stares at the image of Chris Martin singing into a mic stand with his guitar propped on him. He scrambles to look at the details, his blue t-shirt and blonde hair, even his teeth at some point. Ten grabs onto the smallest and unnoticeable details on the screen and in the room. He avoids Johnny’s look as the bile disappears again and the urge to puke fades away.

Ten tilts his head to face Johnny and enunciates an inaudible sorry.

“What are you sorry for?”

“I’m being deported tonight and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Teardrops cascade down Ten Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul’s cheeks.

_The first since his father’s death._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't forget to share your thoughts in the comments respectfully and to share some kudos if you enjoyed reading! Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ODETO10) and [Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/user/gymewm6sqkr42wxfdibu8612e?si=pY85msJ-T6m5IpJJ-AO8kw)


	2. The Middle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know how bothersome it is for writers to link music or playlists with their works but [this playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0SKXHKKXecXvJAkpMKmYfQ?si=kw3U0IH1SbmVEhYGJcHZ6A) was crafted especially by my friend and I.

☆

**Intermission Johnny : PB &J Sandwiches & Kimchi Jjigae**

Johnny remembers being twelve. He remembers sitting on a tall stool in the kitchen of his parent’s sizeable yet cozy little house, waiting for the pecan pie to finish baking and for the soondubu jjigae to finish boiling. His parents are immersed in a solemn conversation held in Korean. The TV is blaring on about some rich heir running off to New York with his forbidden lover. Johnny can’t tell if it's fiction or reality, mainly because how K-Drama-esque it seemed. He also can't deny that his Korean is far from perfect and the only things that's ever rolled out of his tongue are basic phrases that any 3 year old would know.

He stares into the oven watching the caramel bits of the pie begin to bubble from the heat and the fat turkey slowly roast into a crispy golden brown. After a moment, he looks back up and to the soondubu jjigae, it smells spicy and sour from all the kimchi his mother had put in it earlier. He wants to hate it as much as he likes his peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. But he can't.

Johnny had hated the day in kindergarten when his classmates had thrown his kimbab into the sandpit. Some of the white kids had taken his Pororo lunch box apart and stomped on the banana milk carton his mom had packed for him (It was the last one his cousins had brought back from their trip back to Korea) causing it to explode all over the place. He probably would've forgotten about it if it wasn't for the fact that it recently happened again, this time in middle school.

_“Eomma! I’m home.” Little Johnny Suh shouts as he runs inside the house, his mop of dark brown hair immensely dishevelled from swinging on the monkey bars during recess. He finds his mother in the kitchen stirring the contents of a large pot, another jjigae, scarlet and ambiguous yet comforting nonetheless._

_“Youngho-ah!” His mother smiles fondly as she calls out to her son using his Korean middle name. She lowers the stove’s heat and bends down to his height, she tidies his messy bangs and brushes them aside, “How was school?” She asks in her mother tongue._

_“School was alright.” Johnny answers in English before pausing for a moment to think, “Can we speak in English from now on?”_

_“Youngho, you know eomma’s English is no good.” His mother responds in her far from perfect English causing young Johnny to giggle softly._

_“It’s fine, I’ll teach you.” Johnny answers, a faint smile painted on his lips as he peers over to see the contents of the pot, “What are you cooking?”_

_“Kimchi jjigae! Korean food is the best food!” His mother answers, returning to her cooking, “You finish lunch?”_

_“I did!” He lied to his mom that day. He had told her that the kimbab had been so good, he wanted more. A part of him had wanted to scream at his eomma for making him Korean but he couldn’t find it in him._

He hates the fact that his dad had lied to him, he hates the fact that his dad had told him things would be different in New York than they were in Chicago. He recalls how his dad had told him that things wouldn’t be as difficult, that they wouldn’t be treated differently because they were Korean. Johnny feels so stupid for believing him that there wouldn’t be racist assholes in the big city, he was so gullible. But everything was but his father’s words. And as time goes ticks forward, Johnny has began to likened his dad's words to a mere deception, a far away delusion that he could only dream of.

☆

**After, Part One : Johnny’s Thoughts**

In an idealistic world, Johnny Suh would’ve gone to Columbia University and gotten a medical degree, a major in plastic surgery perhaps. He’d marry a lovely Christian Korean girl that his parents would have approved of and he’d have 2 kids, a bright girl who’d become a piano prodigy and a boy who’d grow up and follow in his footsteps.

But what Johnny wanted for himself didn’t reflect his mother’s projections. He's a photographer true at heart, indecisive of his choices, craving adventure and a life outside the unperturbed perfection of his little Korean community of Flushing, New York City. The cookie cutter rules that he had been raised on had failed in doing what they were supposed to accomplish. He’s known this for as long as he realized Santa Claus wasn’t real, when they first moved to the Big Apple and he overheard his parents talking about how they got his Christmas gift at Target the night of.

Despite all this, Johnny’s never had the courage to lull his ambitions awake, he’s never dared asked for a life outside the one he was built for. But the minute he met Ten, he felt ready to jam out that future away down the trash can. There was something rather unexplicit about Ten’s unapologetic behaviour that rendered Johnny breathless. They shared absolutely nothing in common but their fascination of the arts and their ability to dance around the truth. But perhaps that was enough.

A million knives are pointed directly at him, Johnny feels crippled in inadequacy and gullibleness as the truth is spilled over like a mug of cold and musty coffee across an equally chilling glass desk. Who knew the truth would swallow him whole? He certainly didn’t. He abandoned home to have his last day of childhood and he would return stagnant and threadbare. An empty shell of what he was, ready to accept the future he was handed in the first place.

Johnny Suh doesn’t know, didn’t know and will never know, whether he was agitated at Ten for leaving New York and leaving him alone or whether he’s furious with a wake up call a few hours too early. He seemed to be missing the jist of Ten’s message however. Because this whole scenario was never about him, Ten leaving was never his dilemma. No one had told him to approach Ten that chilly December morning offering his company.

This claws at him the most, the fact that he could’ve just let Ten be and get along with his day. He could've just gone to the Guggenheim at eleven when it opened for a quick stroll past the Pollock paintings and perhaps fetch a burger at Daisy’s down the street. It would’ve been ideal. But instead he chose to open his mouth and pry open a new set of problems. Why?

Johnny feels choked. He feels suffocated. He feels trapped inside this small karaoke booth, sitting opposite to Ten, his dainty face decorated with beads of tears, occasionally dabbing at his face with the sleeves of his ratty hoodie.

He feels conflicted between leaving the room at that very second and kissing Ten silly, telling him that things will work out somehow. But he knows now that life is never what it seems to be so as the doors swing open, Johnny Suh exits the door to Childhood and Ten Li.

☆

**After, Part Two : Johnny’s Actions**

Silence echoes through the room, the only thing that he can hear is the pitter patter of raindrops from the outside world mixed with the background music the speakers played when no song was selected. An unfitting joyous copyright-free song plays as the gap between Johnny and Ten begins to widen as time slowly passes by. The click clacking of high heels and distorted yet muted laughter passes through the paper thin wall, Johnny wants to silence them but even he knows he has no right to say anything.

Johnny feels stupid. Stupid for believing he could find love and he could find solace in someone. His heart is pounding, he wants to shout at Ten. But he can’t find himself to do so. He can’t help the fact that he had gotten himself entangled with someone on such a big day for himself. And he also can't deny the fact that he feelshimself fade into the lush green lights that light up the hallways of the karaoke place. He runs so he can make it to his appointment, it's half an hour away and it was 15 minutes to 1. He was screwed, but this time he knew it was his fault and not Ten’s.

He opens his mobile phone to a tsunami of missed calls and unread texts, he winces as he scrolls through the piles of messages and finds Jaehyun’s number. He presses the call button frantically as he runs out the door, knowing that he'll immediately gets drenched in rain water. He's not wrong, the moment he steps outside the dingy establishment, he feels the rain soak through his sweater and jeans, blanketing his body in water. It's not romantic.

“Hey dude, your parents are worried sick, they called me like a million times.” Jaehyun begins, his voice concerned and sluggish, like he had just crawled out of bed. But Johnny knows better than to trust his tone, considering how it's a Saturday, he knows that Jaehyun's been up for ours helping his dad out sort files from his clients at the law firm he worked at. “They even called Autumn you know?”

“What?” Johnny asks, bewildered, he tries to shout to his phone but it was already a pain in coaxing words out of his throat.

“They thought that you ran off with her today, even though I told them you were headed out for your interview.” Jaehyun explains, agitated almost, but Johnny knows that he seldomly clutches onto things like this so he fares for an apology instead.

“I’m so fucking sorry, I got distracted.” He manages to choke out as he gets lost in the sea of people upon entering the subway station. People stare at him, a 6’2 tall Asian male, looking like he just walked straight out of the ocean. A small child gazes at him, eyes the size of saucers, but Johnny deliberately avoids her stare. He doesn't care anymore. He's done with caring.

“What? You decided to fuck someone or?” Jaehyun says a bit too loud causing more eyes to turn at Johnny with much silent judgement. He chooses to mutter a soft apology as Johnny bites his lip as he murmurs indiscernible Korean curse words, he looks like a psychopath but he tries his best not to deliberately think about it and instead scan his subway pass.

“No, well kind of.” He manages to choke out softly. Lies are useless at this point, he’s seen Jaehyun and his way with words in action far too often to know otherwise. Johnny knows in full clarity that he’ll probably miss his admissions interview but he wasn't going to go down without trying.

“Oh.”

“Anyways, could you get to the place, I’ll text you the address, it’s in East Village. Bring some really impressionable clothes, real pretentious shit. Maybe even bring that suit you wore to prom, and also a tie, preferably red.” Johnny lists some things as Jaehyun scrambles out of his seat and footsteps could be heard, “A towel, a hair dryer, and maybe some dress shoes.” 

“Ah okay then, please call me when you’re there, I’m still at Koreatown.” Johnny says as he hears the faint beeping from the intercom system to signal that the platform will be closing as the train will embark. At the realization, he dashes out and just by a millisecond, he makes it on. Perhaps he wouldn’t be completely doomed.

“You're seriously dead, but hey at least I’ll be able to see the end of Johnny Suh’s reign as the NYC poster boy.” Jaehyun snickers as the sound of hangers being pulled out of a wardrobe is heard, “All the ahjummas are going to go crazy.” He adds before Johnny hangs up the call with much anguish.

Johnny getsalong with Jaehyun really well, he might even say that Jaehyun is his only ‘real’ friend he has. But the repetitive poster boy jokes were disheartening to say the least. They're supposed to be friends and Johnny never intended to make Jaehyun feel any less superior to him but he supposes it was inevitable with his packed schedule and Jaehyun's lax lifestyle.

Johnny’s aware of the words Mr. Jung utters to his son when he doesn’t receive As or Bs. Sure Jaehyun wasn’t the best in academics, but his talent in basketball more than made up for it. Johnny’s not even sure whether his best friend’s told his father yet that he’s gotten early acceptances into a few really great universities with remarkable basketball programs. 

Johnny doesn't know, he doesn't know because of how absorbed he's been with his own lfie for the past while.

At the taunting of his own arrogance, Johnny wheezes, his chest freezing as he pats his pocket in search of a hotpack. Upon locating one, he realizes it’s drenched, cold and useless. Just like how he feels.

☆

**Handsome**

Jung Jaehyun despises the word. His lips are incapable of enunciating the 2 syllable long word.

In a way, he thinks of it as a blessing and a curse. He's grateful of course, for being stereotypically handsome and hence receiving all the privileges that comes along with it. However as he grows older and as he's gotten more acquainted with himself, the comments about being a Kpop Idol and the constant staring in the hallways have gotten. Old.

Jaehyun thinks of his face as his Achilles' Heel. He spent his childhood being shuttled from countless auditions and casting calls when he really wanted to waste it playing video games and going to the park. That was how he became friends with Johnny, they were both so occupied by their extra-curriculars they missed out on most of the things the other kids liked that they eventually became friends. The brightest yet most distant and forlorn stars in the universe.

Jaehyun used to think that Johnny was the only person he could ever trust, he still does, but things have changed. Johnny’s rigorous schedule was still something that he upheld throughout middle school and highschool. On the other end of the spectrum Jaehyun finally had enough and told his mother he wasn’t interested. Johnny doesn’t have the time to let fruitless thoughts occupy his mind, he has other concerns to ponder. 

And for a long time, Jaehyun felt he had no purpose, he had nothing and no one to navigate him through the large expanse of the universe.

It was rather unavoidable how he would end up becoming opaque as people would only gawk at his face & figure and disregard what laid within. Highschool is a point of discovery but what was there to discover when you're barren? What was the point of being an actual person if others didn’t want to know what was more to him than his face? Jaehyun doesn't know the answer no matter how much he tries to search for it in the crevasses of the world, he attempts to find the answer to his question in bare bodies and stolen kisses but he only finds more emptiness.

It wasn't like home could be he answer, he thinks as his parents finally settle for a divorce and when his father gets remarried within the span of less than half a year. Jaehyun figures that the fact that he'll always be viewed as incompetent in his father’s eyes as he gets shuttled from one planet to another, specks of conversations about corrupt companies enter and exit his mind with much haste. For despite the constant showering of incorporeal compliments from the world, Jaehyun doesn't doubt that he'll be forever dubbed pathetic in his father’s perspective.

It's funny because Jaehyun knows this in the silence. In the pure ignorance the man had for his son. He knows this in the way his father would never want to be called appa or eat Korean food anymore, he knows this in the way that his son only reminded him of the past that he was constantly hounded by. Jaehyun knows this in the way his father has refused to look him in the eye since he's gotten remarried to his plasticine second wife. He knows this in the fact that his father dotes on his visibly paler daughters. Jaehyun knows this in the way that his father hates that he's Korean and that he is a reflection of his younger self.

Jaehyun is used to his father being gone for numerous nights in a row for 'work' and spending his dinners with his mother in silence sitting on a dining table that was fit for 12 eating French cuisine that was made by a some private chef that had been recommended to his father by a petulant colleague of his. During nights like this, he wonders why his father had married his mother in the first place, a Korean woman who only wanted nothing but a better life for herself in the States, someone who had gotten lost in the bustle in New York City. Maybe it was never his choice? Perhaps his mother was a gift he bought to please his parents. Or perhaps, a long time ago, they were lovers. Jaehyun laughs at the thought of it, so utterly fictitious, something forged in the back of his mind.

In the midst of his bleached childhood, he found solace in the Suh household, where he was able to celebrate Chuseok and learn tangible Korean. Jaehyun thinks that in a way, Johnny's family was the sole doorway that he was able to peek into his culture and heritage that had been so hushed up and hidden away back home. 

He seeks comfort in Mrs. Suh's motherly chattering and Mr. Suh's Hoddeok Sundays. But most importantly in the summer afternoons he and Johnny spent as children, watching Power Rangers, Pokemon and Yugi-Oh! whilst eating busyeo-busyeo on the floor. He finds more than just his identity as a Korean boy in the Suh household, he finds home.

But being Korean is not his entire being, Jaehyun thinks as he becomes a statue during his father’s wedding. He can't recognize himself in the mirror, clad in a black tuxedo and red tie. He sees a ghost standing in the place of where he used to be. The perfect trophy son made for the display cabinet meant to be paraded around when friends came over.

Gone were all the flaws and imperfections that crafted him, instead there stood a polished version of himself. He didn’t feel human, a mere shell of the person he used to be. He cried that day, it was the first time he felt salt on his lips in a long time. He wanted help, he wanted to be whole again, without having his scars concealed. Jaehyun doesn't want to feel numb anymore.

The process is slow but he tries to find something, anything really. He tries to make more friends, not just the pretty girls (and the ocassional guy) at parties but genuine people that he can talk to and laugh with. So he signs up for the first club that he finds with an empty box on the roster, basketball. 

And for the first time in what seems like a lifetime, Jaehyun devotes himself to something. Practically splitting all his time between the school gym and his driveway. He pours his blood, sweat and tears into discovering who he is through the sport. Jaehyun finds that he favors certain teams during NBA viewing parties at Mingyu Kim's place. He discovers that collecting sneakers is pretty neat. He makes friends that Johnny doesn't necessarily know and expands his circle of colleagues and pals. He’s okay and he isn’t afraid to admit it.

Senior year is okay. And not because Jaehyun has managed a coveted spot on his school’s competitive basketball team, one that he fought immensely hard for. It's great because he also realizes that he enjoys listening to vintage vinyls and peanut butter with his oreos. Senior year is manageable because he contrives that he doesn’t like baked cauliflower casserole and drinking straight vodka. Jaehyun finds himself in the small gaps and cracks in life, being able to treasure the memories he's made.

He learns not to take life for granted and that it can be taken away from you at any time through mourning his mother’s passing at 16. Jaehyun now knows that tears are not for the weak and that they’re merely just another way of expressing one’s emotions. He notices that he rushes out of the door a bit too hastily every morning and he makes mental notes to slow down and to take his life one day at a time.

Sure, girls would often ask him out without any questions. Sure, his father still shakes his head in disapproval at the sight of his son arriving late for dinner, dressed in basketball shorts and an ancient tanktop. But Jaehyun decides he no longer wants to care, he decides that he’s his own person, his life is very own and that no one could tell him any other way.

Color seeps into his life as he realizes that his happiness isn’t validated by the poignant comments people whisper about him. There’d be split seconds when he hears freshmen gossip about how fuckable he is and his heart would start racing but then he grips on to what’s real. Jaehyun Jung learns to embrace himself fully without giving a fuck about the repetitive comments he's constantly on the receiving end of. 

He notices how great life is, that there’s more beyond black and white, when he puts himself first and others second. That's why Jaehyun never complains when Johnny asks him for a favor, because the moment color entered him, envy had began to wash away, it had been a halting and gradual process but a process it was nonetheless. 

Jaehyun makes wide strides of improvement as he tries to listen to Johnny’s concerns and give valid advice and criticism instead of merely nodding solemnly. He knows that Johnny never gave as much of a fuck when he was going through shit but Jaehyun doesn’t mind because he finally realizes that Johnny isn’t the pristine poster boy that everyone else advertises him to be. So he makes small bursts of effort to make sure his friend is okay and show that he's there for him.

It's the least he can do, a word of thanks from the boy who he had unknowingly saved.

☆

**Fuck The World**

Ten can’t think. Being stood up is not cute and will never be cute but Ten can confidently state that if this were anyone else in the whole expanse of the universe, he honestly wouldn’t have given much of a fuck. But this is Johnny Suh and as cliche as it is, Johnny Suh is not just anyone else. His thoughts are overshadowed by the people at the room next door sings a saccharine pop song, one about a love so whimsical that it was almost fictional. Ten wants to laugh.

But instead he curls himself into a ball and lets his tears wash over him, allowing them to swallow him whole. A part of him, detached and deluded, wants Johnny to be here, to comfort him and tell him incorporeal facts about the universe and the stars. He wants Johnny to be here to cradle him and tell him that it’ll be alright, that if this was meant to be, they’d find their ways back to each other. He wants Johnny to place his lips on his and render him breathless, determined to make him forget about tomorrow and live today.

Ten feels childish for even considering these things. Johnny has his own life, one so pristine and eloquent, one that couldn’t possibly fit him in it. Ten feels starry eyed and tired and all he wants to go home and pretend like the past 6 hours never occurred, perhaps even pack the rest of his things. But he can't, he promised his mother he would have an earth-bending afternoon outside the house.

She had spent the last month begrudgingly telling him to make the most out of whatever time they had left in New York and admittedly Ten hadn't listened. He’d spent most of it locked up in his room, humming along to Matt Healy and Harry Styles, as they tell tall tales of love and misery. Ten sits in stagnant silence, his hair dishevelled and mouth in a permanent grimace.

Fifteen minutes later, he’s sitting in Kim Doyoung’s bedroom, clad in a matched set of maroon pajamas and a mug of cocoa in his left hand. His best friend amused at the sight of his eyes and lips swollen from tears and kisses, whichever order you’d prefer. Doyoung spent most of his friendship with Ten, stitching up the pieces and beating up whoever messed with him. Sure, he’d be sullen and would get whiny afterwards but he always cared, he always did.

Doyoung doesn’t know how to feel this time, he’s disgruntled of course, it’s one in the afternoon and he’s trying to finish up his winter book report with the thought of Ten’s deportation clouding his thoughts. But at the sight of the male himself, he feels soothed somehow. It feels bittersweet because a part of him knows that this will be the last time he’d ever get to get mad at Ten for breaking his own heart for fucking some silhoutte he met on the street.

“What happened?” Doyoung asks, his voice is tired and even Ten can't blame him, the same exact scenario has played out so many times in the past 5 years that if this was a scene on a DVD, it’d be scratchy and dilapidated beyond measure.

“I fell in love.” Ten states bluntly, he spares expense in detail.

“Wha- Actually, you know what. Okay.” Doyoung corrects himself as he places his Reindeer mug on his bedside table before removing his already askew spectacles and putting them beside his drink.

Ten knew that Doyoung would scoff at his conclusion, afterall if there was one thing that could describe him with the utmost accuracy, it’d be realistic. Doyoung never gave a fuck about the grand what-ifs and he certainly never took seemingly insignificant coincidences as anything else but what they appeared to be. Ten knows it was stupid to pour out his heart to Doyoung, sure they were close, but they never really talked about serious or morbid things like this. They both bickered too often to actually sit down and discuss their issues with one another, often ending up tracing the outlines of the problems instead of diving in.

“I’m serious.”

“Really?” Doyoung asks softly, he's been afraid to push any of Ten’s buttons these days. If anything, ever since Ten broke the news about his deportation, they haven’t had any ‘fights’ or arguments. Initially they both enjoyed it, but as the weeks rolled by, it grew tiring and frankly not rather stale. They both missed each other’s sarcastic commentary and drunken banter.

“Yes.”

“Oh wow, how long have you been seeing him?”

“I met him today.” Ten answers, he knew Doyoung was going to judge him, he always did. Doyoung didn’t believe in love and the fact he didn’t was sincerely poignant. Doyoung has always had an acute point of view of love, he was never fond of talking about it, always becoming detached whenever their gang talked about the matter.

Doyoung instead stays silent, he can’t decide whether he wants to burst into laughter or feign more questions.

“Would you please say something?” Ten asks, it's as clear as day that he's becoming desperate, he’s becoming desperate to grasp on to reality, something that wasn’t bodiless and celestial.

“Honestly or passively?” Doyoung responds, he really didn’t want to sugar coat his opinions for his best friend to be able to swallow but if what Ten wanted was a comforting friend who offered him hot cocoa and open ears, then he was willing to try and fit the mold.

“Honestly.”

“Well, I think you’re high or drunk.” Doyoung states bluntly, Ten's cheeks burn unabashedly, he’s glad to hear the old Doyoung return. One that wasn’t always tip-toeing around the truth and acting so stagnant around him. Ten misses him, and he thinks he’ll miss it more than New York City.

“I’m not.” Ten mumbles, he wasn’t offended by anything Doyoung said, they knew their limits, “I met someone I shouldn’t have, and the thing is, I’m still glad I met him. He’s my what-if.” He states, he wants to tell him that the boy is Johnny Suh, age 17, your church friend, and the boy that stepped on my heart.

“Don’t tell me you got some weed off of some nasty dealer and fucked someone-” Doyoung as he buries his head in a fat pillow from his bed, the scent of laundry detergent floral and strong, just the way he liked it.

“It’s Johnny Suh.” Ten deadpans, he tries to avoid Doyoung’s gaze as he instead focuses on a notebook on the desk opposite him, it's sky blue and had several stickers cleverly pasted on top neatly.

Doyoung’s mouth is left agape, he finds it difficult to picture Ten with Johnny, the poster boy of their church. He's profound by the utter difference between them. In addition to the fact that he didn’t even know that they knew each other, Doyoung remains caught off guard. He notices that Ten can’t bear to look at his eyes, and he knows the exact reason why.

Ten Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul never fell in love. Over the span of the 12 years that Doyoung has known Ten, he’s never heard of his heart fluttering or of butterflies in his stomach. Ten’s spent his whole life questioning the fact whether he even liked people in that way, sure he’d spend some nights with strangers but there were no loose strings attached. There never were.

There was nothing earth-shattering or planet-bending about it, Ten used to say to his friends. But despite the fact that his mouth had uttered these words, his heart seemed to beg to differ. There was still a sliver of hope somewhere there that he’d meet his person, someone he could call home, the one, some say. 

When their group of friends would have movie nights at Yuta’s, Kun would always choose rom-coms that made the rest groan in distaste. Yuta and Sicheng would always protest at first but end up falling asleep on each other’s shoulders 10 minutes in. Doyoung would sit sullenly, half watching and half texting God knows who. Ten on the other hand, actually paid attention, he finds the story of how two lovers meet in such a big world unfold fascinating and entrancing in a sense. Ten's a realist but he can’t deny that he’s also a secret romantic.

“How did you meet him?”

“I saw him at Battery earlier.”

“Oh wow, and you spoke to a stranger?” Doyoung comments, taken aback at the fact that Ten made the initiative to approach someone he didn’t know.

“Well, to be fair he spoke to me first.” Ten begins, it feels incredibly stress inducing to pour his heart out to Doyoung, afterall he knows that each word that he utters will immediately be judged and critiqued.

“You know what, I’ll shut the fuck up and you just tell me about him.”

And so Ten does, he begins the story of how they meet that morning, their conversation about everything yet nothing. Ten laughs as he remembers how well they got along and even Doyoung can’t deny the fact that it was refreshing and nearly whimsical that Ten was so invested in someone he’s known for a little over five hours.

Ten continues on as he talks about boba and window-watching, about how miraculously their stories resonated with one another. Ten thinks he's alive as he feels blood pulsing through his veins as he recounts his day, he hasn’t felt this way in a while. Yet he feels beyond grateful that he no longer feels numb from the pain that he’s been withstanding since October.

“I told him that I would be going to Parsons next year, and he told me he was going too.” Ten utters, his chest tightening, he feels like he can’t breathe so he gulps down more water, “I lied to him and I think he thought that we could've, you know, gotten together.”

Doyoung’s interest sparks, his face sours and he feels conflicted on whether to tell his best friend what he already knows. A part of him feels obliged to confide in him with the truth yet another knew Ten had gone through something that seemed quite major and he would fare better without the information he could offer. Silence hangs in the air as Ten notices this, Doyoung always shared his opinion and was always eager to dish gossip, yet this time he remains a statue.

“What is it?”

“I’m sorry to break it to you, but Johnny’s never brought that up, he’s always going on about becoming a plastic surgeon.” Doyoung whispers, his toes curling, his voice sounds like he’s just swallowed a mouthful of sand.

Ten feels betrayed but most of all he feels fucking stupid for being so gullible.

People like Johnny Suh don't go to Art school, they go to medical school and they’re expected to have a wife and kids before 35. People like Johnny Suh chased the American Dream whatever the fuck it was. People like Johnny Suh weren’t made for the Ten Li-s in the world, and something about that relieved Ten, maybe they weren’t meant to be afterall.

Ten traces his fingers across the constellation of polaroids that have began to cluster above Doyoung's desk, pictures depicting the past five or so years of their friendship. There's one of Sicheng and Yuta posing dramatically at the Goodwill near school, there's another candid one of Kun cooking their hotpot dinner at a restaurant in Chinatown much to his complaint. Some of them are old and some of them are newer, the newest of which had been taken last night, they had taken the same picture five times, just so that each of them could have a copy of it. But Ten knows his favorite, he's spent many nights here afterall. It's the one at the very center, it's one of them camping (Really, a stupid idea that Yuta came up with) to celebrate the six months since Kun's arrival. Ten's pointing at the stars, eyes hopeful. 

“Keep it.”

“Keep what?” Ten snaps, displeased at Doyoung’s sudden showcase of empathy and notice. He tries to play dumb as he studies his expression in the picture, younger and much more naive. Perhaps even more gullible and foolish.

“The goddamn polaroid you’ve been staring at forever.” Doyoung answers, not missing a beat before he swiftly walks to his desks and plucks the sheet of glossy paper and placing it gingerly on Ten’s splayed palm, it feels cold and dissatisfactory in his hands.

Ten’s always wanted that photo, he always has, and the fact that Doyoung finally gave it up signalled the end of an era, it was nearly time to say au revoir to his friends and go. Fuck, why did life have to be so complicated?

But before we proceed to the next part of the story, it’s important to note that Ten despises interruptions, faint mutters during his presentations in class or at his dance recitals, unsolicited commentary at his art exhibits. And most importantly, he hates whenever someone opened their mouth when he was already spewing words like a fountain.

At the end of the day, it’s also crucial to point out the fact that whatever happens next did happen for a reason, not as another jab at Ten, but something he’ll forever be grateful to Kun for. Now that everything’s put out of the way, let’s continue.

As Ten feels his eyelids rim with tears, the door swings wide open, adjacent. Doyoung looks furious, his ears as red as a beet, he swears he’ll kill his older brother when he can. But alas, the male who stood at the room’s entrance was not Kim Gongmyung but instead, Qian Kun, sweat trickling down his forehead despite the weather being pouring.

“Ten, my mother pulled some strings, she got you a meeting with one of the best immigration lawyers she knows.” Kun manages to pant, in his hand a brown paper folder filled with doggy-eared paper and sticky notes jammed to the corners. Doyoung’s glare lowers and instead widens in curiosity. Ten’s heart jumps, this day was a wilder rollercoaster than he had initially reckoned it would be.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that you might stay.” Kun grins fondly, unabashedly proud of the hard work he’s pulled off, “Don’t give up before the miracle happens.”

☆

**If We Were To Take This Into Consideration**

Ten supposes that he’s liked someone before. It was brief and it certainly didn’t make his heart shatter when they finally ended things but if asked about the first person he’s ever developed feelings for, Ten can’t help but think briefly of him.

It was an odd Tuesday in the midst of the summer before junior year, the weather had been sweltering well at least that's what the news described it as, Ten really doesn't mind, afterall he had grown up in South-East Asia. Ten recalls receiving a call from the school’s admin, she told him to tour the new kid around campus with Yuta as punishment for wrecking the janitor’s office for the third time in their high school careers.

Ten had muttered curses as he got out of bed, morbid at the idea of spending his day at school, the place he despised the most in the whole wide world. His face is solemn as he slips out of his pajamas and into a thin white shirt and black jeans. He leaves the door at 8 without a bite of breakfast and his Converses’ laces untied. His mother had shook her head profusely at this but Ten didn’t care.

Yuta had arrived slightly earlier, a lollipop between his lips, this time it's blueberry. He sticks his tongue at Ten, a violet shade. Ten shakes his head in disgust before the two enter the school building, he remembers commenting on how stupid the Japanese male was for wearing a Letterman jacket in the middle of July.

But then he sees him, Qian Kun. Ten doesn’t know what about the Chinese male but he couldn’t help but feel his heart skip a beat. The male in question had chestnut hair, neatly tucked to the side and he wore a beige sweater, new jeans and a branded backpack. Ten was surprised that someone so put together was miraculously placed in his school, afterall he appeared as if he was someone who was meant for one of the private highschools further into the city, but certainly not here.

Ten feels disheartened, this Kun kid seemed like a goody-two shoes, he was totally going to rat them out if they gave a half-assed tour to Cynthia over at admin. So Ten tries his best to show the mediocre parts of the school, the library and its quite varied selection of foreign language novels, the well facilitated theatre room and he even manages to point out how decent the school’s bolognese pasta actually was.

Yuta provides his usual sarcastic and half-hearted commentary making sure that Kun would laugh and let Ten breathe in relief. Everytime he thinks Yuta’s gone too far, Kun still manages to put a smile on his face. Sure Yuta disregarded everyone but Sicheng’s opinion but Ten still did, he was trying his very best to not fail, he would be truly fucked if he got another strike.

Ten tries to keep the tour brief, he speaks vaguely in order to prevent Kun from knowing much about his personal life. So Ten doesn’t mention the abandoned janitor’s closet on the 3rd floor, he also casually forgets to bring up the gang’s favorite lunch spot underneath the gym’s bleachers. Ten’s convinced that if he lets anyone, especially Qian Kun, this seemingly goody-two shoes, in on the parts that make school a bit more bearable, there would be nothing to look forward to here in hell.

As Ten attempts to indicate the fire exits, Kun laughs aloud, catching the two best friends by surprise. Yuta’s mind races to make assumptions as his eyebrows furrow, a part of him scrambling to pull conclusions that Qian Kun was a psychopath on the run. On the other hand, Ten thinks that Kun finally put one and one together and discovered their true intentions at school.

“So let me get this straight, you two spend your limited free time in the library doing past history papers?” Kun scoffs, his arms folded neatly across his chest. Yuta felt his cheeks turn rouge, unable to admit anything, he kept his lips pursed and silent.

Ten, however, opens his mouth in an attempt to lie once more, “Yeah?”

“I’m not dumb you know?” Kun begins, he circles Ten like a shark, “I saw Yuta smoke a cigarette when he thought I wasn’t looking.” He adds, his eyes trained at the Japanese male’s left jean pocket, the outline of a joint visibly pressed through the fabric.

“So? Just because Yuta smoked, which admittedly is fucking stupid, doesn’t mean he’s a bad kid alright?” Ten shoots back, he felt liberated as a vulgar word spills out of his mouth in defense of his best friend. Sure, Ten teased Yuta about his relationship with Sicheng and cigarettes but if anyone dared lay a finger on any of his friends at that, he would instantly be up in flames. “We’re not bad people, okay?”

“I never said you guys were, I just found It rather difficult to believe that you guys ‘read’ in your free time especially because I heard Yuta say, ‘Fuck reading, watch hentai instead’.” Kun laughs, his shoulders relaxing as he mimics the former’s words and style of speaking.

Ten loosens up and cracks a grin at this, Yuta remains a wreck, his ears still aflame. He pushes Kun’s shoulder jokingly and the new transfer shoots a smile, Ten finds his chest pounding slightly. What the fuck was that?

So perhaps Ten liked Kun that summer, afterall Kun was everything he wasn’t. He was raised strictly on a diet of rigorous after-school lessons and steep expectations. Kun didn’t curse nor did he dress like someone who’s wardrobe merely consisted of Goodwill and Old Navy. He was polite and smiled to adults even if they weren’t the nicest, he was earnest and he demanded respect when he spoke.

Ten found him interesting and in a sense nearly admirable, he was everything he claimed to despise but truly wanted to be. This was hidden in his sarcastic commentary whenever Kun displayed his put-togetherness whenever he stitched together the pieces if one of them fucked up. Ten didn’t dare to think that he would ever figure out whether Kun was merely a facade, a mask he wanted to wear or he was someone he genuinely enjoyed being with. But it was okay because he eventually did.

For over the span of the following sweltering July nights and the countless hours they spent on Ten’s balcony, smoking pot and joking around, Ten realizes that Kun’s straight. And he’s fine with it, no resentment could be felt bubbling within, instead a sheet of emptiness cloaks him. Whatever feelings he had for Kun was just due to fascination and his desire to be intimate with someone different.

Ten has numerous daydream-esque memories with his friends it was so difficult to let go. Ten used to laugh at stupid quotes his sister pinned to the walls to her room, confident that they originated from Pinterest or Instagram. They were so cheesy. But as his deportation stoands and the day crawled by slowly, Ten can't help but try and look at life through a pair of positive lenses. He finds solace in Winnie the Pooh excerpts that he read in Literature. It'd been the very first time he found comfort in words printed down neatly on a piece of paper.

Ten tried to grasp onto the threads of his past life but even his friends can't admit that nothing had changed. Because it had, time was ticking and Ten was like a bomb most days, minutes away from exploding. Kun, however, held them together, he always started conversations with everyone that avoided the topic and guarantee a chuckle from Ten's lips. 

Ten wishes his pride wouldn’t be such a bitch sometimes and let himself fall, let himself cry and feel things. But he can't. Because he was so unaware of how lucky he was to have something that made saying goodbye so hard.

☆

**In a State of Disbelief**

“What did you do?” Doyoung deadpans after a sullen moment, his voice is strong and stern, he doesn’t believe what Kun has to say.

“I told my mom to try and set up an appointment with this really good immigration lawyer in the city a few months ago and their assistant suddenly confirmed an appointment.” Kun explains rushedly, he sits down beside Doyoung who was comfortably wrapped in a fuzzy blanket on his bed. Doyoung seems disturbed that Kun had invaded his space but he kept silent.

“But, that’s fruitless, the deportation still stands.” Ten responds, still not completely convinced with the revelation, sure Kun knew more about law than he did, but according to the seemingly fruitless hours he’s spent online searching up on the matter it seemed to state otherwise. “It’s not like they can delay it or anything.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Kun smiled gleamingly, he pulled out his phone from his left back jean pocket, typing out his password before he showcased a professional website, “This guy can actually freeze the deportation, so even if you’ll still have to go, it’d be under different circumstances.”

“Okay. So when is it?” Ten nods fervently, he gulps out of nervosity. He brushes the non-existent dust on his lap and stands up, shoving the polaroid into his own pocket, he'll remember it someday. He remembers that he still has Johnny’s satchel, his face soured in realization, he doesn't have time to chase the boy now. He’ll have to settle with letting Doyoung hand it over when they meet at church if he ends up leaving for good.

Doyoung notices how Ten keeps his eyes on the navy blue bag, he wants to ask something but in a situation like this, he knows better than to do so opting to bite his own tongue. Ten’s untimely departure from the city has caused a lot of changes even before its occurence, it's conspicuous Doyoung had to actually think before he spoke, an oddity for the sharp-tongued male.

“It’s literally in two hours, so just throw on something from Doyoung’s closet that doesn’t look like it’s 40 years old.” Kun says, remembering the details, he scrambles to the corner of the former’s room and slides open the closet door, flipping through the endless pile of clothes in different shades of black and white. Ten approaches Kun and flicks through the ratty sweaters and ancient hoodies and finds something he would actually wear.

“That one’s appropriate.” Kun states, seemingly pleased with Ten’s choice of clothing, “Now go! Change! The office is near here, it’s in East Village so we ought to rush.” Ten winces at the reminder of where they are and Doyoung shakes his head at Kun causing the Chinese male’s face to display immense confusion, he’d always thought their group enjoyed Koreatown for its exquisite yet affordable lunches and colorful miniature shops.

“I don’t need your fucking approval.” Ten mutters nonetheless, an insincere smile plastered on his lips before exiting the room to head to the bathroom. If it was any other day, he probably would’ve stripped off his clothes right then and there in Doyoung’s room despite the sounds of disapproval and complaints from both of his friends. But Ten feels lost and he thinks he deserves some space.

“What’s up with Koreatown or East Village? Did he get into a fight earlier?” Kun huffs as he fixes his unusually messy hair as the sound of Ten’s footsteps began to fade and the bathroom door locks. Doyoung sighs in response, his lips frowning in an attempt to express empathy towards the Thai male.

“Ten fell in love, he made out with somewhere at some karaoke earlier.” Doyoung laughs, still quite surprised with the news. Kun’s eyebrows furrow, even more confused than before as he opens his mouth to ask a question. “Don’t ask, it’s even more complicated if I try to explain, ask him yourself later.”

Kun nods before Doyoung speaks again, “Why’s your hair a mess? You literally get out of bed with perfectly styled hair.” He scoffs sarcastically causing Kun to roll his eyes in mere disamusement.

“I couldn’t sleep, only managed to this morning at like 3, and I subsequently woke up later.” Kun tries to massage his temples, he did seem distressed, his eyelids heavy and encompassed with dark circles.

“Qian Kun? Inable of falling asleep?” Doyoung nearly laughs aloud, “Welcome to the insomnia club, whore.” He extends a hand to the Chinese male who groans in response. It's strange for Doyoung to see the typically put together male incredibly tired as he pressed his face onto a random pillow to rest his eyes.

“I was thinking about Ten. He doesn’t deserve this, you know?” Kun says, voice forlorn, face still buried in the pillow causing his words to sound muffled and slurried together.

“No one does.” Doyoung hums, he finally hops out of bed to change into something that didn’t seem to scream ‘lazy’ or ‘tired’. He stares at his own reflection in the mirror and settles for combing his flat bed of hair and doubling on a sweater on top of his graphic shirt and blue jeans, afterall it wasn’t his appointment, it was Ten’s. Plus Kun didn’t seem to be wearing a tuxedo or anything so Doyoung supposes he’s dressed alright. “But this shit still happens. Glad you’re making an effort though.”

“Of course I am, Ten’s my best friend.” Kun retorts matter-of-factly, Doyoung wants to guffaw at his naivety and tell him straight in the face that Ten despises the phrase and swears on his own life that if anyone called him that, he’d throw himself off a cliff. But at that moment, Doyoung is comforted by the words because Ten was indeed their best friend and someone they treasured immensely.

“He’s mine too, but what I meant is that it’s great you’re helping him literally in this sense by using your connections.” Doyoung mutters, mirroring Ten’s incapability of crediting others when it's due. He doesn't want to confess that no matter how close Yuta, Sicheng and he was with Ten, they would never be able to pull off anything that would come close to what Kun just did. "We could never."

“Come again? You've been keeping your petty mouth shut and giving good advice. Sicheng has been dragging Ten to the studio continuously for the past month and Yuta and his cheap-ass dollar store alcohol has helped save the day more times than we can count." Kun shakes his head as he lists out all the things they had compiled together to comfort the Thai male. Kun’s trying to say that the support the rest had given to Ten was equally as impactful as his attempt in trying to fuck over the fate of the universe, but somehow they came out that way. He’s alright with it though. "You lot helped an awful bunch."

“I wanted to compliment you on how informal you are now but then you used the words ‘lot’ and ‘awful’ so I retracted my words.” Doyoung smirks trying to lighten up the mood of the room causing Kun to scoff. It was quite dumb of him to think that he was capable of having an actual deep conversation with anyone from their group. They both laugh softly but unbeknownst to either of them,Ten had been standing on the opposite end of the door for a while, feeling warmth spread across his heart. Perhaps romance was overrated and friendship was the superior form of love.

☆

**His Future In Plain Sight**

Johnny sighs a breath of relief as the doors open, signalling his arrival in East Village. A large flood of people enter the subway as he exits and heads to the stairs. His mind was spinning like the beyblades of his childhood, all he can see are swirls of color and indecipherable figures. The moment the afternoon sun begins bathes his skin, Johnny feels himself loosen up slightly. He's been making rash decisions and he isn't sure if he cared anymore.

He sees a few places that he wishes he could stay a bit longer to examine and take photographs of but alas, time. There was a fantastically picture-esque deli a mere 5 feet away, an ancient theater just opposite to him, all of which were ideal places to spend his afternoon to capture the essence of. But alas, time.

He finds his way through the crowd of people and rows upon rows of cobblestone and red brick townhouses of which Johnny’s practically memorized from his countless summer days spent admiring the architecture in the neighborhood. He winces in slight regret, he wishes he could’ve taken Ten with him here and mock the perfect families living inside these picturesque houses. But he knows that they both wished for a similar life, perhaps together.

Johnny shakes his head as he reaches for his phone in his pocket as he remembers that he left his satchel with Ten at the karaoke room. He makes a mental note to ask Doyoung about it when they meet at church tomorrow. He types out the address of the interviewer’s office frantically, his fingers tracing his phone’s screen speedily. It doesn’t take much time for him to find it, nestled in between ancient townhouses on the cross section of a bustling road and with its seemingly signature glass doors sticking out like a sore thumb.

It's a relatively new building, probably built during the late 2000s, it seemed like the sort of place that Johnny’s mother had envisioned her only son to have his medical practice at and to visit on weekends. Johnny bites his tongue because he knows that he’s unsure whether or not he’ll even make that vision a possibility for his mother at this point. He sees a group of accountants and businessmen filter through from the entrance of the building in tailored suits and holding briefcases, it all seems comical and nothing but a dream.

He waits for Jaehyun’s phone call, he should be here by now, afterall, his father’s office house is a mere 3 blocks away and he knows how fast the former could run when on a time crunch. Johnny sits on a bench opposite the skyscraper and allows streams of important people and tourists walk past him without his acknowledgement, it's the first time that he ignored the existence of the greater population and just seemingly centered all the fucks he could offer to himself. It doesn't feel right but then again nothing did after Ten. It hasn't even been an hour yet Johnny feels this unsettling feeling bubble within telling him that he messed up.

The male stares at his reflection from the wide glass doors, barely visible, his sweater is no longer drenched nor was his hair, but damn did he still feel chilly. Albeit the slight afternoon sunshine, it's still quite windy and the water soaked in his clothes isn't offering him much assistance, instead acting as some sort of bait for the cold air to circulate around him. Johnny taps his feet impatiently as he waits for Jaehyun to magically appear in his god-like etherealness and tell him that he’ll be alright.

But that was not what he was greeted with, instead he's thrown an orange paper bag (Hermes) and rushed inside the building by two boys, one visibly shorter than the other, Taeyong. Taeyong is one of Johnny’s favorite people in the world and not just because he could cook really well but because he was understanding where Jaehyun was ignorant. Taeyong’s not as present in his life as Jaehyun is but Johnny can’t deny that the male always came through when shit hit the fan.

“I can’t enter this building looking like this!” Johnny wails in protest but Taeyong, despite his height, manages to push the male inside and into a bathroom with the assistance of Jaehyun.

“Well it’s your fault you had to go get drenched before your interview!” Taeyong huffs in complaint causing Jaehyun to snicker slightly. “You didn’t even call me!”

“I would’ve but I didn’t even know you were with Jaehyun!” Johnny answers, incapable of admitting defeat as they finally arrive at the lobby bathroom.

“Well now you do, so hurry up, switch your clothes, I chose them for you, if Jaehyun had you might come out looking like a basketball player on his off day.” Taeyong huffs as he gives a final shove for Johnny to enter a stall with the paper bag filled with clothes. The Korean male sits down on the counter before staring at the incandescent detailing on the bathroom ceiling and the crystalline chandelier situated in the very center of the room. Admittedly it was incredibly fancy for an office building, even in Manhattan.

“What does your interviewer guy even do? This place is fuckin fancy.” Jaehyun whistles as he tries to fix his messy hair (An oddity for the male) using the assistance of the ceiling to floor length mirror in the bathroom entrance, it's decked out in expensive Italian marble that even his wealth could not compare to.

“He’s a lawyer of some sorts, immigration I think?” Johnny calls out in response from the stall, his soggy jeans and sweater sliding out from the bottom of the stall for Taeyong to catch, “Did you bring uhh-”

“Yes, and don’t worry they’re brand new.” Jaehyun answers in place of Taeyong, his earlobes burning a violent rouge shade causing his friends to laugh out loud. It feels unorthodox and almost criminal to laugh at a place of business like this but the group of friends still did so unashamedly, fuck invisible rules.

A few moments later, Johnny steps out of the stall and even Jaehyun takes a moment to take in the sight of his best friend for he indeed looked different. For once he seemed meticulously put together, wearing a black turtleneck that hugged his chest and designer jeans, Taeyong even managed to throw a full length teddy bear beige coat that made Johnny seem even more grown up if possible.

Johnny can’t recognize himself in the mirror, he doesn't seem like a foolish teenager from Flushing anymore if anything he seemed like a Silicon Valley tech entrepreneur that was about to pitch an idea for something revolutionary. As he stared at his reflection, he had smiled, enjoying the grandiose image he was portraying for himself. 

But the more he stared at himself, the man in the mirror began to blur. He didn’t like it anymore, it was far too pristine and perfect, it no longer was Johnny Suh.

☆

**Running Away From Your Problems Never Solves Anything**

Ten vividly remembers the day his father became his hero. It was a Sunday evening in the middle of the summer before second grade, the sun was still burning and there was no wind coming through. Ten had spent the entirety of the break outdoors with his sister taking turns on the bicycle their father had just bought for them. It had already been half a year since the move and the Li-s were settling into Harlem just alright. Sure they shared moments of arguments on who’s turn it was to use the bike but ignoring all the flaws about those few months, Ten would gladly consider that summer as the best in his life.

There were no talks of possible hospital fees or going back to Bangkok, the only conversations they had were about mint chocolate chip ice cream and early morning bicycle rides to Battery Park. Ten laughs whenever he recalls his childhood because it was so undoubtedly simple, but the older he gets and the more he thinks about it, he begins to realize that it wasn’t as picture-perfect as he had remembered it to be. His parents had hidden all their hardships and masked it beneath shields of smiles.

Ten specifically recalls that specific Sunday evening in July because it was the day he asked his father for his first skateboard. It was just before dinner and he and May were outside the shop, playing hopscotch on the sidewalk, their knees rugged and blistered but they didn’t mind. Their mother had just called out to them to come inside but their ears were deaf to her commands and instead they continued to play their little game,

So when their mother screamed for the third time, the two children hurriedly entered the shop and clambered up the stairs to their miniature apartment, racing each other to reach the top. Ten had lost to his younger sister and had showed up in a terrible mood, his lips were curved downwards and his eyes judging May’s every gesture. The sound of a key turning into place signalled that their father had just finished closing up the shop and was making his way upstairs as well.

Dinner went smoothly to say the very least, Ten scribbled on a notepad with his Doraemon pencil in between mouthfuls of chicken and rice while May played with her doll as their mother spoon-fed her. Their father ate quietly as he listened to his wife tell stories of her day at the restaurant. Ten always thought it was somewhat comical that despite working together his mother always managed to tell stories that his father was unaware of when he was probably a few meters away when the situation was occurring.

“So the new girl, Lisa, accidentally dropped two glasses and a bowl when she was returning to the back.” His mother said as she poured more soup into May’s Hello Kitty bowl, she's undisputedly tired but her face remains animated as she recounts her day for her husband. Her Thai still fluorescent, afterall she refused to take English courses and stuck to speaking the melodic language at home.

“Well, did you cut her wage?” His father inquired in English despite knowing his wife’s attributes and incapability of ‘punishing’ their employees, his face entertained as he flipped to the next page o f the newspaper. Ten notices that his mother’s face sours at the fact that his father had spoken a different tongue.

“No I didn’t, she’s new.” Mrs. Li answers matter-of-factly, “Why are you speaking English?”

“I didn’t realize it, well I suppose speaking with the non-Thai or Chinese customers helped.” Her husband responds sarcastically, even May takes note of it this time, because no matter how terrible his day was, their dad never spoke anything but sweet words.

Ten used to not understand what matter this conversation was concerning but as the years pass by, he finally gets a grip of what it was on. What his father said was petty indeed but it was true, his mother had initially refused to speak a single drop of English and would isolate herself with the Asian community in their neighborhood. Whereas his father on the other hand spoke to the foreigners despite his English being mediocre at best.

Mrs. Li calmly places the metal spoon on the table, the sound of brass clanging on the wooden surface echoing throughout the apartment, and stands up from her seat. She brushes off non-existent dust from her apron and heads to her bedroom. Ten blinks twice and looks at his father, still sitting rigidly and flicking through his newspaper as if nothing had occurred.

The whole situation was seemingly morbid as it had unfurled so swiftly but Ten was unaware of it, he was unaware of the fact something had even happened. Suddenly the pregnant silence was pierced by his sister’s loud wailing. His father stands up, placing the stack of paper on the table and taking the spot of their mother. He wipes the droplets of tears with his thumb, careful not to be too hasty, and paints a cheery portrait on his face in an attempt to make his daughter smile. He succeeds and proceeds to feed her in silence, Ten is amazed at the sight, their mother was incapable of getting May to listen so quickly.

“Baba, why don’t you take care of us more?”

Mr. Li quips his head and chuckles solemnly at his son’s comment, before he pauses to purse his lips and think for a moment, “Well, between my English classes at the center, the restaurant, and my night job, I don’t have much time.” His face is plagued with wrinkles of weariness but he makes an effort to keep up the conversation with his son.

“I see.” Ten responds, he finally finishes up his meal and places his bowl in the sink. He notices that piles upon piles of dirty dishes speckled with left-overs were stacked messily across the counter.

“Could you please wash them?” His father hums softly as May tries to bump her Barbie doll’s head to his forearm, “Your mother’s tired.”

Ten wants to say something, something only a naive 7 year old boy would say but he keeps his lips sealed and turns on the tap water and runs the water over the plethora of unwashed cutlery and bowls. The rest of the night had been a saccharine affair, no words were exchanged as they ran their night time routine without the assistance of their mother. Explanations were unnecessary and spared as Ten and May continued the night without asking about their mother. Well not until they were tucked in their respective bunk beds and Ten decided to open his fat mouth.

“Baba?” He chirps as his father begins to walk to the door of their shared bedroom, his fingers perched on the light switch before he turns to face his son.

“Yes Ten?” Mr. Li answers him with a blatant expression, he was far beyond tired and simply wanted to retire to the dingy couch that sat in their make-shift living room.

“Can I get a skateboard for Christmas?”

Mr. Li laughs out loud causing Ten to tilt his head in curiosity, before his father heads back to approach him. “It’s only July, why are you asking me now?” He asks, genuinely interested in what his son had to say.

“Because I know Mama will never let me have one and you’re not about to back her up right now.”

Any parent would have burst into flames at the amount of pure ignorance and neglect if their child had said anything similar but Mr. Li was different, and he always had been. He swore that he’d never be like his father, he swore to his wife the night before they left for New York City that he’d never turn bitter and into a sleaze, absent from their childrens’ lives. Mr. Li never screamed or scolded his children, instead he always told them that they should reflect on their actions. Ten's pleased to report that his father kept all his promises.

“Well, admittedly, I wouldn’t love it if you got a skateboard.” Mr. Li shrugs at first, he places his head on the corner of Ten’s top bunk, causing his son to engulf himself with laughter, “But if you promise to be safe and only play it in front of me and your Mama, I’ll consider it.”

“I promise!” Ten shouts prudently, he places his hand on his forehead, saluting his father like in the military generals did in the films they showed on the TV.

“Anymore questions?” His father asks as he salutes back jokingly, his left eyebrow quirked upwards.

“Why does Mama not want to speak English?”

Mr. Li takes another pause to collect his thoughts, afterall he didn’t want to taint the image of his wife permanently into their adolescent boy’s mind just because of a petty comment.

“Well, your Mama misses Bangkok, and speaking Thai keeps the spirit of the city alive in her.” He begins calmly, Ten nodding in agreement, he did miss the constant chatter of the melodic language. “She thinks that learning English is the same as giving that up.”

“Oh, but she’s wrong.” Ten concludes, his arms crossed around his chest and a pout on his lips, this causes his father to sigh and think about how he was supposed to respond to the young boy’s not too convincing statement.

“Well, that’s what she thinks. You can’t call her wrong.” His father responds shaking his head with much patience.

“You’re right.”

“But what you can learn from this is that, don’t be like your mother in that sense and don’t be like me either. You should hold on to your Thai and Chinese heritage tightly but let yourself love this country too, because it’s your new home too.”

And that stuck with Ten, even decades later in the future when he no longer called New York City home.

☆

**An Escape, A Lie**

Without a second to waste, Ten, Doyoung and Kun are at the front door of the Kim house with lilting expressions painted on their faces as they await the arrival of a taxi that Doyoung had dialled from the landline moments before. Ten feels extreme discomfort as he tugged at the sleeve of the gray long sleeve he had selected himself, the fabric felt incredibly insufferable and scratched at the surface of his skin.

Doyoung and Kun whispered amongst themselves about iminent possibilities and shared several snickers at the sight of Ten seeming put together. In the span of the decade Doyoung’s known Ten, and the span of the past few years they were actually friends, it was the very first time the Korean male has seen him wear anything that could be described as professional. Even Ten can’t deny this, his wardrobe strictly consisted of graphic t-shirts and hoodies from streetwear brands as foreign to Kun as Polos were to Ten.

In any other scenario, Ten would’ve muttered in complaint and wanted in on the conversation with his friends but at that very moment he kept his mouth locked. He was too worn out to say another word.

“Hey. Have you eaten lunch yet?” It was Doyoung. Ten lifted an eyebrow in confusion, the slightly older male never gave as much of a fuck about his eating patterns.

“No.”

A soft thud hit Ten’s left shoulder, and a bag of ranch chips fell onto the sofa beside him. He looks at Doyoung who's perched on the arm of a lawn chair, his face displaying no signs of any emotion. Ten can only assume the best and rips open the bag neatly, careful not to allow any of the crumbs to fall on the soft cushions he sat on. He throws a chip into his mouth, savoring the cooling flavor of ranch, and chews on it slowly, he knows that he isn't going to eat anything for a while.

The taxi cab arrives and Kun instructs the driver to the place they were headed, the man in the driver’s seat listens and they begin their brief journey to Neo Law. Doyoung sits shotgun, although he's incapable of admitting it, he cam't bear facing his best friend. So instead Kun sits beside Ten trying his best to prepare Ten for the consultation by telling him all the legal information he needed to know and what he's supposed to say. Ten bites his lower lip as he attempts to take in all the things that Kun was listing off.

Ten doesn't like taxi rides, they cost far too much and the risk of the driver being a kidnapper wasn’t exactly slim. He was raised on the reliance of public transport and he still can’t help but feel somewhat guilty whenever he rode one. Sure, this time Kun had swiped his card but Ten still thought that they were wasting unnecessary money. That was the one thing he didn’t exactly like hanging out with Kun and Doyoung without Yuta and Sicheng’s accompaniment. The two were rich.

Well, that might be an exaggeration. But Ten can’t deny the imbalance of wealth in their friend group, afterall Doyoung and Kun’s parents both worked full time jobs at high rise offices while Sicheng, Yuta and his operated family establishments. Ten loved his life but he can’t deny the partial discomfort when Kun would have the newest Iphone and he's still stuck with a barely functioning mobile from when he was 14. Or when Doyoung would complain about having to fly to Korea for winter break for the millionth time. There was always that gap that he always seemed to notice but his best friends seemingly didn't.

“So I informed your mom that you’re going to this interview and that she doesn’t need to head there.” Kun finally adds, his breathing heavy after rambling non-stop for 10 minutes straight.” I also called Sicheng and Yuta to come over for moral support.”

“Wait so you told my mom not to come but you told my friends to?” Ten attempts to laugh as he covers his face with his hands to hide his expression.

He looks through the window, it'll be the last time he would be able to pass through Koreatown. He tries to take in as many of the neon signs that are beginning to light up as the car zooms pass by the middle to upper class sectors of the neighborhood and into the heart of it. He would miss it, Ten knows that he’ll miss the taste of Mrs. Kim’s doenjang jjigae and pajeons. He knows that he’ll miss the boba place at 3rd Avenue, he too knows that he’ll reminisce the newly crafted memories from earlier.

“Why?”

“You know me too well Qian Kun.”

“Fuck you.” Kun grumbles softly as he hits Ten on the thigh with his magenta binder.

“Wow he can curse!” Ten responds, this earns a small chuckle from the front seat.

☆

As the cab pulls into the bustling street where the office stands, Ten recognizes two familiar figures standing at the front door. A male with silver hair tied into a miniature bun and another male with chestnut brown hair styled neatly, one dressed like a rockstar and the other like the stereotypical boy next door. The sight of Nakamoto Yuta and Dong Sicheng seemed almost laughable in comparison to the sterling glass doors that welcomed a constant flow of businessmen and women in power suits.

Ten nearly jumps out of his seat as the car doors swing open and runs into Sicheng’s arms. Ten doesn't mind the fact that Sicheng is fazed or that they're stumbling as he nuzzles his head into the Chinese boy's shoulder nook to disgruntled Yuta. Today has been a long day and sometimes all you need is a Sicheng hug. Kun and Doyoung shake their heads as they walk out of the car and stare at the intimidating office building in front of them.

“This is the sort of place I dread working at.” Ten shivers as he rubs his arms for warmth, Sicheng’s right arm wrapped around his shoulders. Yuta talks with Kun and Doyoung about what the hell was going on and what they should do next.

“I knew you would say that!” Sicheng play-punches Ten before turning to face his friend’s face completely, “So how are you feeling? Nervous?” He pesters like a child asking for sweets.

Ten rolls his eyes at this before opening his lips, “Sort of? I don’t have much hope honestly.” He lies.

“That’s a lie, even I can tell you’re bursting with hope right now.” Sicheng rolls his eyes before linking their arms and leading them to the glass doors to examine what exactly lies within. The two consider pressing their faces on the transparent entrance but end up entering the actual building like normal people instead.

Ten takes a deep breath as he absorbs his surroundings, the building’s foyer was about as large as his whole block. A massive chandelier hung from the center of the lobby, made of fragile Swarovski crystals that seemed like they were about to shatter with a single poke. The floor beneath them made of marble tiling that most likely came from some European country and cost more than the staggering debt that Kun would probably rack up from medical school.

It was too much.

☆

**Walking Travesty**

Ten doesn’t believe in therapy, he doesn’t believe in sharing his secrets with someone. He finds it foolish that old rich white ladies spend their money on hours sitting on sofa pouring their heart out to a complete stranger with a plaque from Harvard on their wall. That’s why he’s kept his feelings to himself for most of his life, he keeps his mouth sealed and his tears fall on his pillow and not on someone’s shoulder.

Ten thinks that if he withholds his emotions, people would grow to see him as an independent and badass figure and he wasn’t wrong. His name had a spiteful and nearly bittersweet reputation at school for the same reason, people respected the fact that he didn’t give a fuck about how others viewed him. It was a mask that he paraded around with so much pride but when he was alone and bare, he claws at himself for having to keep up an act for the world.

The only person he’s been brutally honest with about himself and his feelings was Johnny, sure he lied about who he was but everything within was whole and incandescently Ten. The person he had been when he was with Johnny was the polar opposite from who he was with anyone else, sure the outer layers weren’t him and instead this polished and pristine Ten Li. But inside, it was him, all pieces attached.

Ten can’t deny that for the past few hours, he had been a stellarly different person and it was all thanks to Johnny. The male brought out the best in him, the enigma he usually was in front of strangers gone and abandoned instead stood Ten Li, for all he was, broken and imperfect.

Deep inside he knows if Johnny was by his side at this moment, he would march up into the office right then and there with pride and hope adamant and unable to be put out.

But he wasn’t.

It was too late, the last train back to him had already left the station.

So he runs away. Ten runs, he dashes out the doors of the office building like a gazelle on the run from a pack of lionesses. He knows he’s disappointing his father’s spirit by running away from his problems but he doesn’t give a fuck anymore. Tears begin to stream down his face once again as the winter weather slaps his face once more. Ten was broken and he can’t deny it anymore. He doesn’t think he deserves his spot in New York anymore.

☆

**Unfamiliar Reflections**

He blinks twice and stares at the pupils of the man in the mirror. He's unrecognizable. Johnny shakes his head to dismiss the thought of the foreign man who stood in place of his reflection. Instead he flattens his sweater before he faces Taeyong and Jaehyun, both males with their arms folded on their chests.

“So umm, I’m sorry.”

“Damn right you should!” Taeyong whisper-yells before he cups his mouth in realization that they're in a professional environment where people were currently slaving away at work.

“Where were you?” Jaehyun asks plainly, he's certainly amused at the sight of his best friend stuck in a very uncharacteristic situation. Things usually went the other way around, with the older cleaning up after him but Jaehyun can't help but admit how refreshing it was to see the tables turned.

“Well, I went to Battery Park earlier today then I went to Koreatown.” Johnny says in an attempt to simplify the reality of what had run down that very day. Nonetheless, Taeyong is relentless and continued to interrogate the taller male.

“I don’t believe you, you’re literally one of the most put-together people I’ve ever met.” Taeyong rolls his eyes as he massages his head with his left hand which accentuated the fact that he had another migraine, “You were with someone.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Really?”

“Dude, why are you so adamant about this?” Jaehyun shoves Taeyong from the side, “So what if he wanted to have fun with someone?” He adds, a smirk planted on his lips.

“Because Johnny isn’t like you, he wouldn’t fuck up something this detrimental.”

Jaehyun purses his lips, he keeps silent and slouches down on the bathroom floor. He doesn’t look at Taeyong nor does he say another word, instead he chooses to pick on the ripped edges of his dark jeans. He toys with the threads with his fingers and hums a melancholic tune that was somewhere along the lines of All Time Low and other pop punk bands.

Johnny can’t face Taeyong, he wanted to scream at the former male for intruding on his personal business and breaking down Jaehyun. But he bit his lip because he knows the specific reason why he was. And he can’t deny that Taeyong’s reason is perfectly valid. A metallic tang bleeds onto his tongue and Johnny realizes that he’s drawn blood from his lips. He plucks a tissue from the dispenser on his left and wipes the corner of his mouth, careful not to smear the red across his face.

There is a deluded silence in the bathroom as more tension begins to be conjured. Taeyong is agitated at the taller’s lack of commentary but he can't bring himself to pry open his lips to say something. Everyone wants someone else to continue the conversation but they were all profound by the harsh words that had been spat out.

“Do you really want to know?” Johnny hums as he too avoids Taeyong’s intimidating glare and opts to stare at the white tiled wall on the opposite side of the bathroom entrance. He pays the utmost attention to the faint cracks and lines that rummage through the tile work, they reminded him of himself.

“Yes! Because I don’t want you to get hurt all over again. So just tell me if you were with her.” Taeyong shoots back without skipping a beat, “You know she cheated on you.”

This statement however earns a sparse glance from Jaehyun who was still sitting rigidly on the bathroom floor, picking at the seams of his eggshell white button down shirt.

“Autumn cheated on you?”

Perhaps there were some details Johnny forgot to mention. Because when you love someone, you tend to turn a blind eye on all their flaws and imperfections.

☆

**A Protagonist, A Sidekick**

Johnny’s never kept a secret from Jaehyun, not as long as they’ve known each other which has been pretty damn long. He didn’t even keep it away from Jaehyun when he got the stomach flu and didn’t shower for a week straight. He didn’t hide the fact that he was bisexual to him either. You get the point, Johnny Suh never lies or buries the truth away from Jaehyun Jung.

Not until his breakup with Autumn. Frankly, Johnny never really told anyone why things ended the way they did, he never spoke about it to anyone but Taeyong. He frankly wouldn’t have told his cousin either if not for the fact that he was the person she tried to make out with at Vernon Chwe’s 17th birthday party at Soho, drunk beyond measure and her good girl image abandoned in a heartbeat.

Johnny remembers hearing about it from the few people that were invited, sharp whispers and insensitive sentences choked out during the free period into his ears. Johnny could only bite his lip once more, because he knows his cousin wasn’t a bad person, for fuck's sake this is the same person who still sleeps with a teddy bear at night and demanded hugs from strangers.

Taeyong Lee is the quintessential nice guy, and not a self-proclaimed one at that. He spends his weekends juggling volunteer shifts at retirement homes and animal shelters. He bakes toffee and chocolate chip cookies in his spare time and teaches hip-hop to kids during summer break. He watches romance movies and in return believed in true love and love at first sight. Taeyong is picture-perfect in numerous ways, with what his manga-like exterior and charming demeanour.

He would’ve been the family’s poster boy but alas, he had to be _gay_.

Johnny doesn’t quite understand why Taeyong had chosen to come out to their whole family during Chuseok during their sophomore year of highschool. Sure he wasn’t quite straight either but he's spent his whole life tip-toeing around the topic with their close-minded family. He envies Taeyong’s parents and their open-mindedness towards their son’s sexuality but on the other hand Johnny wouldn’t love to be subjected to the homophobic chatter that their other aunts subjected to him in the face.

Johnny doesn’t hate Taeyong, but he hasn’t always liked him. They used to be rather distant, especially because their mothers didn’t get along. Despite the lack of hatred between them, they've always spared a gap between them and made clear efforts into preventing their friend groups from overlapping. But when CheatGate (Trademark to Taeyong) had occurred, he had no choice but to talk to his cousin about the matter.

Upon their hidden conversations in eloquent coffee shops, they find that they share much more than they initially thought they did. So as Johnny loses an incandescent figure in his life, he gains another. He can’t deny the fact that his afternoon talks with Taeyong about Star Wars were amusing and crucial on his way to allowing himself to slowly return. Because as Jaehyun was a good listener, Taeyong constantly provided the best advice and was the textbook mom-friend.

So he throws himself on to Taeyong and lets himself heal with the power of the male’s impeccable guidance and cheesecake throughout the aftermath of his breakup. He rides away the waves of pain and regret by burying himself in romcom marathons and laughter. Johnny, however, can’t bestow the fact that he had felt immense guilt from hiding such a massive part of his life from Jaehyun.

In an attempt to prevent a fallout with the former, he introduces the two to each other and without much effort the two get along pretty well. But if one thing could be deduced from Taeyong’s mere existence, it was that the male wasn’t a constant figure. He drifted from one party to another, one clique to another and never could stay in the same space for too long.

Johnny feels a partial sadness when he realizes this but he supposes life can’t exactly be pristine. He knows this too well. But when Taeyong accuses him of crawling back to someone he wasn’t exactly in love with, he’s partially conflicted whether his cousin was sincerely concerned about his current state or whether or not he had something to tell Jaehyun.

Taeyong is a pioneer of tough-love but this was quite much even for his standards, Johnny is taken aback as he hears his cousin pours out his secret in front of his best friend. He notices that Taeyong had been taking quick glimpses at Jaehyun the whole time he saw the two of them. Johnny is no expert in crushes but he can tell that Taeyong is starry eyed and he's acting rather differently due to Jaehyun’s presence.

It felt like everything in the whole world had paused momentarily and that he was stuck somewhere quite foreign.

And that was the first time Johnny Suh realized that he wasn’t just the protagonist of his story but also a side-character in someone else’s.

☆

**Full Frontal Future**

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I couldn’t.”

“What do you mean you couldn’t? You have a mouth for fuck’s sake.” Jaehyun spits out, his every word coated with disappointment and kerosene.

“I can’t handle this right now, I have to go.” Johnny shakes his head in avoidance of anyone’s face, he allows himself to be carried away by his emotions to the bathroom entrance.

“Go ahead and run away from your problems like you’ve been all of today.” Jaehyun states before Johnny pushes the doors open and heads towards the elevator to find the floor where his interviewer’s office is located.

Johnny is aware of the fact that he isn't a side character in Jaehyun and Taeyong’s story, the thought that he probably is the antagonist floated through his mind but he tries to ignore it. Instead he tries to imagine who laid behind the dark mahogany door on the 5th door from the left of the 17th floor of Neo Law. Johnny’s sure it’s probably just another white man his father’s age who makes more money than he could handle. Easy.

A messy chestnut haired male welcomes him from the door, the pin on his chest indicated that he was Jeonghan Yoon, personal assistant. He can't be more than twenty-five, he has a sly and somewhat forced smile that reminds him of Ten in the most unexpected way. His face seemed quite youthful and mischievous but he was seemingly agitated by Johnny’s presence as if he had interrupted something and he ought to apologize. Nonetheless, not even this could sway Johnny from noticing how ethereal Jeonghan is.

This thought, however, is swept away as Johnny saw the wilting state the actual office was in. The waiting area is insanely cramped and the decorations that hung in the room flacid and ancient, with wooding surrounding the entirety of the room. Johnny quickly concludes that his interviewer, who’s identity he’s frankly unaware of, was definitely an old wrinkly man who had no taste whatsoever.

Johnny tries to take in the sight of the hackney office and the portraits of fresco-style paintings that decorate the walls. A dozen porcelain vases are placed on display on a stained glass rack, they're dusty beyond measure and a few had chips and cracks glistening visible due to the atrocious lighting in the room. Johnny is taken aback at the sight of round, naked babies drawn with utmost precision that he forgets to open his mouth to ask where his interviewer was. It's quite evident that Johnny had been to slow paced for Jeonghan's liking.

“Seung- I mean Mr. Choi is right over here.” He snaps quickly as he leads Johnny through the dark passageway that leads to his interviewer’s actual office.

At the mention of his dreaded interviewer’s surname, Johnny quirks an eyebrow. He feels a partial sense of relief flood his nervous system as he notices that he's also Korean but a part of him does ponder at the possibility that he was a carbon copy of his father. Or even worse, his mother. But he doesn't have much time to think of all the possibilities as Jeonghan urges him to walk at a swifter speed.

The hallway is fashioned similarly to the waiting room with umber and coffee lining the ceilings. More detailed artworks are hung and Johnny can see the distaste in Jeonghan’s face as he rolled his eyes at the sight of one in particular with the bosom of a fat lady visible in plain sight. He hears mutters from the corner of Jeonghan’s lips, complaining about how he wished Seungcheol would remove the shitty paintings already.

“Here you go.” Jeonghan whispers exasperatedly as he swings open the doors to Seungcheol’s office carelessly before introducing Johnny to the man that he had been so anxious to meet, “This is John Suh, Mr. Choi, he’s the boy that you’ll be interviewing for the day.”

Johnny can’t help but scoff at the sight of Seungcheol Choi, a boyish man who sat on his office chair, typing frivolously on his Mac. He can't be much older than Jeonghan, with his midnight black hair, full lips and youthful smirk. He's a buttoned down white dress shirt and a tweed suit laid abandoned on a coat rack in the corner of the room.

Fortunately, his private work area didn’t mirror the rest of the awful office. Large windows are splayed on the north wall allowing the room to bathe in the citrusy early evening light. The walls are painted gray and his accomplishments littered them, well deserved ones at that. A small framed picture of his family was located on the west wall and Johnny can’t help but smile at the sight of it.

Seungcheol himself was fascinated at Johnny’s amusement of his little office and opens his mouth, “Surprised my space doesn’t resemble the rest of this miniature museum?” He questions in a curious tone, there's a slight tint of sarcasm in his statement.

“Kind of?”

At that moment, Johnny starts to genuinely consider throwing out his childhood and accepting his fate.

☆

**Seasonal Doubt**

Ten feels himself fade away as he enters a large crowd of people, for once he’s grateful that he chose items from Doyoung’s wardrobe to wear because there was no way in hell that anyone who knew him would recognize him in a sea of beige and black. Ten doesn’t see a point in taking the interview anymore, because he realizes he’s been lying to himself for the past few months.

Perhaps the system was right, perhaps he deserved to leave. He isn't one of a kind, he isn't one of the genuinely hardworking and kind people out there who’s place in America was well justified. This country was cruel and for a goddamn long time Ten thought he could fool himself by telling himself that his spot in New York was warranted for.

The countless nights he’s spent hunched down working on his art pieces and excusing himself from dinner simply to bury himself with his revolutionary work. Ten used to think that he was one in a million, a figure far too blurry for anyone to recognize, a rose in a field of common weeds. But when he meets Johnny Suh, he sees himself mirrored in the body of a 6 foot something Korean boy with a slightly better body and personality.

Ten finds that throughout his lengthy conversations with Johnny that he isn’t special, he isn’t unique. That there are other people like him. Ten thought that he’d find solace in finding similar folk, people who echoed his hopes and dreams but he was wrong. It merely slapped himself into reality and told him that the only reason that he ceased to exist wasn’t even real, it was fiction.

Ten bites his tongue as he remembers Johnny’s meek smile, his faint dimples and his annoying laughter. He would’ve, he would’ve been alright with this realization. But after the male’s departure, he can’t help but realize there isn’t a point in fighting for his position in the country if he was normal and without a cause. And upon seeing the sight of Neo Law, Ten could only find himself drowning in guilt and existential dread within. Choked up, he stands up and leaves.

Ten knows where he’s headed, his favorite escape, one that not even his friends know about. He inhales in a deep breath and runs again, abandoning the forsake of his future.

☆

**The Life He Would Have Had**

Johnny can’t help but instantly like Seungcheol, he's easy going and an incredibly chatty person. He's someone his mother would love for a son, charming, witty and had a profession that society nodded in approval of. Seungcheol tilts his head at the sight of Johnny, afterall he found it quite entertaining to see a younger version of himself once again.

“So Johnny, let’s start this interview.” Seungcheol clasps his hands together before opening a muted green folder from the miniature shelving unit behind him, “Introduce yourself.”

“I’m John Suh, I turn 18 in February and I’m Korean-American.” Johnny begins, his words are sure and quite obviously rehearsed. His eyes are trained on Seungcheol’s and refusing to dart around, just because becoming a doctor wasn’t his first choice didn’t mean he was going to fuck up this interview. “I’ve spent my whole life wanting to become a plastic surgeon to help others feel better about themselves.”

However, John Suh cannot lie. It comes in stutters and is seemingly insignificant in comparison to his beginning statement. Seungcheol notices this.

“You seem hesitant, isn’t this what you want?” Seungcheol asks, eyebrow quirked, eyes glinting with interest at this sudden glimpse of uncertainty.

“Of course.”

But even Johnny himself can tell that he was only playing the part of a fool.

“Well. What are your interests?” Seungcheol asks, he has a pen dangling from his lithe fingers. He toys with it as he waits for Johnny to respond nonchalantly.

“I love photography, I’ve been a fan of it from when I was a kid but I only started taking it seriously during my freshman year.” Johnny shoots back quickly, perhaps too hastily for his liking, but he only does so to compensate for his doubt. His voice is firm and unwavering.

Seungcheol nods in approval before writing what Johnny can only presume to be ‘photography, passionate’ on the sheet of paper opposite to him. “Why did you choose Harvard?” He asks loudly.

Harvard, oh Harvard. Johnny nearly winces at how confident the older male was when he called out his alma mater's name, he was so used to saying it in whispers. Afterall it was a name that Asian families can only pray that their children would get accepted into, a distant daydream but for a select few, it was a clean cut possibility. But Johnny knows that Seungcheol worked hard to be able to use the word lightly, so he deflects any possible reactions.

“Well, I googled the top best medical schools in the country and Harvard popped up.” Johnny jokes, he had thought of adding humor into his answers whilst practicing with Taeyong during the fall but his cousin had disregarded his attempts. Seungcheol chuckles at this, a small smile cracks open on his lips.

“On a serious note, growing up in a dominantly Asian community, whenever someone would get accepted into an Ivy League, it was almost like someone we knew won an Oscar. It was a big deal.” Johnny starts off, his hands folded on his stomach, he felt relaxed, after all this was the reality he had been living in.

“I get what you mean.” Seungcheol notes he points his pen at Johnny , “I remember my own mom screamed so loud when I told her, I’m pretty sure the whole block figured it out before she could indiscreetly brag about it at church.” Johnny shakes his head, his mouth curved upwards, he's pretty positive that his mother would react similarly if he was accepted into med-school.

“Exactly! I grew up constantly being told to only aim for high places and to work hard to reach those positions.” Johnny continued, he's sincerely grateful that someone like Seungcheol was interviewing him, someone who understood the underlying struggles that young people of color had to face from within and outside the community.

With this acknowledged, Johnny doesn’t hesitate on his words during the rest of the interview, he answers confidently and is daring enough to make small puns and add relatable humor into his responses. He’s genuinely pleased at how well it’s going, all he can hope is that Seungcheol was gullible enough to fall for the lies that he webbed themselves in.

“And that’s it!” Seungcheol announces as Johnny wraps up his final statement. The younger male breathes a sigh of relief but the older is still occupied as he jots down his final notes concerning what Johnny had to say about his volunteering efforts.

It is worth noting that Johnny can’t help but avert his attention from Seungcheol’s somewhat intimidating exterior whenever he is silent. He pauses for a moment to admire the view from the window behind him, the sun was starting to set allowing the sky to fade into this whimsical periwinkle purple shade that reminds him of Ten’s hoodie. Johnny frowns at the realization that everything made him reminisce of the Thai male. Other skyscrapers filled in the scenery with the muted sound of bustling traffic acting as background music. He could get used to this.

“Enjoying the view?”

“Shit you shocked me.” Johnny mutters, he cups his mouth with his hands at the realization that he had cussed in front of his interviewer. He knows it was a mere ‘shit’ but he had heard rumors that the slightest slip-up could jeopardize his chances into acceptance.

“It’s fine, the interview’s over, you can curse as much as you want.” Seungcheol laughs in response, he stands up and walks over to the window sill, he pushes them open allowing the muted sound to rise in volume, he closes his eyes to soak in the remaining droplets of sunlight, a soft grin displayed on his face. “Trust me, if you choose to take this path, the view never gets old.”

“What do you mean if I choose to?”

“Look Johnny, I know you don’t want to go to Harvard, to med school, or maybe even college at that.” Seungcheol concludes, his face pompous and incredibly pleased at his conclusion.

Johnny feels his insides churn, he thinks that the older male is toying with him but he can't be one hundred percent certain. His mind is going a mile a minute and he wants to open his mouth to defend himself but he can’t, because they both know that what Seungcheol meant well and had only spoken the reality of the situation he's standing in.

“How could I tell?” Seungcheol takes the words from Johnny’s thoughts, word for word, “I am you.”

“What the fuck?”

“Well, I was like you.” He responds, his back leaning on the north wall, arms folded and his eyes locked with Johnny’s, a beaming expression that summed up all that needed to be said, “You think I wanted to be a lawyer? Don’t be stupid.”

“Of course I didn’t. I loved other things, I liked basketball and sports.” Seungcheol shrugs, Johnny cantell that he was recounting his memories from his teenage years, “But I wasn’t sure if it was just a phase or not so I let my mother make my decisions for me.”

“How did you end up specializing in immigration cases?” Johnny finally asks after a pregnant moment of silence, the tension in the room demanded to be cut with a knife.

“I didn’t want to defend rich assholes from what’s coming to them but I didn’t want to go broke from fighting environmental issues.” The older begins, his fingers counting off the options he had, “So I took the middle road and chose to help those who are told to go home when they are, in fact, already home.” He concludes and at that moment Johnny could tell that Seungcheol was in fact alright with where he was in life.

“That’s..”

“Depressing? Saddening? Mortifying?”

“I suppose, the thing is I know what I want but I can’t face the disappointment on my parents’ faces.” Johnny sighs, a forced display of amusement on his face.

“That’s a tricky one, and I myself can’t help but hide my “disappointments” from my parents.” Seungcheol smirks, he makes quotation marks with his hands with the word disappointment. He notices Johnny’s confused and turns a framed portrait to face the younger male. It's a professionally shot photograph of two men in black tuxedos, a stereotypical wedding shot.

The one on the right was evidently Seungcheol, with his signature wispy smile and deep dimples. The one on the left was a familiar chestnut haired male, his face at peace and extremely different from how Johnny first saw him. Both of them had lifted their right hands displaying two incandescent diamonds on their respective ring fingers. It was a rather cheesy and cliche picture but nobody could deny that it was sickeningly sweet.

“You and Jeonghan are married?” Johnny gasps before covering his mouth in amusement, it certainly wasn’t the plot twist he expected but it certainly was one that he was glad to discover.

“Yes, it’s our second anniversary this month. Winter wedding.” Seungcheol laughs as he fiddles and twists the same band on his finger, “My parents don’t know, his parents know and they’re basically estranged now.” The second part was said with less confidence as he grit his teeth, indicating slight regret.

“Oh.” Johnny says solemnly, his mouth forming an ‘o’ shape. He feels some form of pity bubble within for the older male, but he can't bring himself to say much more.

“Well, no one is perfect.” Seungcheol waves his hand to prevent Johnny from reacting furthermore, “But when who you love isn’t accepted, you either shield it away or welcome it graciously nonetheless.”

“Johnny, you’re clever enough to figure this out.” Seungcheol concludes, before he comes closer to the younger male, “I don’t want to shoo you away but I have an appointment in half an hour and I have to prepare for it, a rather detrimental case.”

“Ahh alright, I understand, thanks for the advice Mr. Choi. I’ll definitely reconsider my decisions now.” Johnny nods meekly before heading for the door as he collects his coat and items, “What’s the case about? If you don’t mind me asking that is.”

“Well, to be brief and clandestine, it’s a family that’s going to be deported, but I think I might be able to overturn it.” Seungcheol says, he grimaces as he opened the door for Johnny to exit from.

A part of Johnny leaps, what if it was Ten? The chances are slim but they're still there. However Johnny keeps silent, Ten is no longer a part of his life and confidentiality is prominent in the eye of the law. So he nods a farewell and makes his way out of the hallway and out of the office, certain that he was about to be on the receiving end of more shouts from his best friends and parents. Yet he felt that his interview taught him more than he could ever expect.

Although, what Johnny doesn’t notice fails to remind him about what he was about to face downstairs.

“Hannie! What’s the next client’s name again?” Seungcheol calls out from his working space, it's evident in his voice that he was teasing his husband.

“It’s Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul, he’s the oldest child, male, 17.” Jeonghan huffs in response, his words coated in agitation, “I told you, Wumei Qian’s kid told me it was fine to call him Ten!”

☆

 **A Pang of Realization**

The moment Johnny exits Seungcheol's office, the man in question can’t help but pull out a photobook from the bookshelf behind him and flick through the pages in silence. Seungcheol has always been a sentimental person, always remembering the special dates and marking them on the calendar as to not forget about them. He spends his free time reading romance novels and watching cheesy rom-coms while Jeonghan writhes in cringe beside him.

Seungcheol can’t help but feel rather pathetic after confiding his story to 17 year old Johnny Suh. He really set himself up to be an villain of sorts, incapable of confessing his love for his now husband, to his parents. He stares at the portrait on his desk, the same one he had to stuff briskly inside his drawer everytime his mother came to visit the big city from down in New Jersey. He was so belated to finally tie the knot with the one he loved yet he couldn’t show the world it, just for the sake of his image in his parent’s figmentation.

He remembers when he kept on delaying the fact that they’d come out to his parents, Jeonghan had been so excited, so hopeful, that they might be accepted into a family for once. But Seungcheol had only shrugged and told him that it'll happen one day. Who would've thought that one day took this long? It’s been 7 years. So many milestones tucked away in their shared East Village apartment overlooking the city, hidden from the daylight.

Jeonghan, despite practically being disowned, is fleeting, finally unabashedly himself without having to give fucks about what his parents had to say. Yet, Seungcheol, years into their relationship, still refuses to sacrifice his reflection in his family’s book. And even though Jeonghan never brings it up anymore, he knows that his husband has given up on fighting with him over these matters anymore.

Seungcheol, however, knows. He knows how miserable Jeonghan is whenever his parents come over for dinner or when he has to play the bad guy when Seungcheol has to make up an excuse why they couldn’t stay overnight. (“Jeonghan doesn’t like people invading his space.”) He can’t help but feel like shit how Jeonghan can’t help but grit his teeth when he refers to him as his roommate and employee. (“For fuck’s sake! We’re married and you can’t just call me your friend at least?”)

There are moments where Seungcheol wonders whether his parents ever question the dynamics of his relationship with Jeonghan and whether or not that it would be wiser to just state the truth to them. There are periods of time where Seungcheol thinks he’s ready to come clean to his parents, his extended family and have his aunts and uncles call him a failure or a shame to the family. (“He’s a successful lawyer! What a shame he’s married to a man.”) But then comes the weekly phone call, the one that always sways him the other way. Seungcheol can’t deny the fact that as much as he loved Jeonghan, his parents’ approval is something he'd learned to crave from youth.

But upon meeting John Suh, a naive and much taller reflection of who he was as a teenager, something inside Seungcheol clicked. He isn’t about to repeat his mistakes, his one true regret, once more. He realizes that he loves Jeonghan, and that the burning love he had for him doesn't deserve to be stowed away in a dark closet, hidden and covered in dust.

Love is complicated but hiding behind closed doors isn’t worth the hassle of fighting with the person he loves.

Love is something meant to be embraced with open arms.

So Seungcheol locks the doors of his work space and he punches in a familiar order of numbers onto his office phone. His hands are trembling as he fiddles with his pen once more. His mind is going into overload thinking about the million possible ways that this conversation can go down. But then the line picks up and he takes a deep breath.

“Mom, we need to talk.”

☆

 **They Will Meet Again**

Johnny taps his foot against the flooring of the elevator, he is ready to welcome his fate and his mother’s rambling. (He assumes that Taeyong had phoned her over the course of his interview) But what he did not expect is the sight of Kim Doyoung talking animatedly with his cousin and best friend. There's an unfamiliar boy standing beside him, he seems incredibly put-together and his face seemed sincerely concerned for some reason.

“What’s going on?” Johnny questions, he bursts into the conversation, his eyes scanning the mysterious boy who stood opposite to him. “What are you doing here?” He asks Doyoung, voice hesitant.

“Don’t call me that hoe.” Doyoung mutters, his voice evidently indicated how pissed off he was at the taller boy, “And don’t be stupid, I know you were with Ten today.” He adds, his words like sharp teeth sinking into him. The looks displayed on his friends aren't helping either, if anything they added more fuel to the fire.

Johnny doesn’t know how to react, what used to be a harmless nickname derived from his Korean name had turned into a venomous insult of sorts. Salt to the wound. He keeps his head down though, he knows he fucked up and he had seen it coming one way or another. Sure, he had to come to terms with the consequences of his actions, especially with Doyoung, but he didn’t expect it coming like a turbulent asteroid right when he was in the midst of his own personal crisis.

“I’ll explain it sometime.” Johnny shakes his head fervently, he nearly warns Doyoung not to tell his mother that he was out with some guy she didn’t know but he keeps silent. He didn’t want to become Seungcheol. “What’s going on?” He huffs in despair, everyone in the circle, in exclusion of the foreign boy, is incontestably equally aggravated by him and his behaviour.

“Ten ran away. He was supposed to have his interview here with this immigration lawyer my mom knows.” The unknown boy speaks up, his voice is wavering slightly, he's close to tears which surprised Johnny more than the statement.

“Our friends, Yuta and Sicheng are looking for him right now. Do you know where he might be?” He asks finally, he looks straight into Johnny’s face and without blinking he says, “If he truly did run away, I will never forgive myself.”

A quiet moment of emptiness passes as Johnny thinks momentarily, there was a place that they spoke of earlier. One that Ten had talked about with such high praise that he wanted to visit once more before they left, but alas time.

Love makes us do stupid things.

And that's why, despite the fact that Johnny knows that he would be infinitely grounded upon arrival at home, he does one good thing for Ten.

It truly is a shot in the dark but it was one he was willing to take.

“I think I know where he is.” He whispers.

☆

 **The Way His Eyes Glimmer**

They’re back at Battery Park, watching the sun rise, showering the sky in this melancholic orangeish-pink shade while dark indigo lingers in the seams, remnants of the night sky. Ten is partially relieved that Johnny has stopped asking his miscellaneous questions, but a part of him doesn’t want this conversation to end just quite. Fortunately, Johnny isn't about to allow it to finish the onslaught either.

“Do you like movies?”

“Duh.” Ten scoffs, almost offended that Johnny had asked such a no-brainer question, “What about you?”

“I do, but I don’t really have time to watch them.” Johnny answers, scratching his head in embarrassment as he tries to avoid Ten’s gaze that seemed to be able to pierce through glass.

“Are you a celebrity or something?” Ten rolls his eyes in disbelief at Johnny’s profound statement, “Everyone has time for movies.”

“No, I just, I spend my days outside.” Johnny huffs, his bangs are lopsided due to the hush of the wind. He tries to shift it to the side of his face by blowing softly, this causes Ten to chuckle. “When I get home, I just go to my room and sleep.”

“Oh right, I forgot that you’re a part of 5 clubs, have 4 part-time jobs and also have your student council president duties.” Ten shakes his hand in his attempt at a sarcastic apology, this earns a joking shove from Johnny who's bright red and beaming like the sun.

“Oh shut up.”

“Am I wrong?”

“Yes, first of all, I’m a member of 2 club.” Johnny corrects the shorter male, his face trying to gleam with pride but failing miserably as he was still in bouts of laughter, “Second of all I only have one part-time job.”

“No-no-no, you’re definitely part of the student council.” Ten waves his hand in dismissal of Johnny’s words, fixated on his own beliefs on who this person was, “You’re at least treasurer or something like that.”

“Well technically, I’m the school’s designated photographer.” Johnny confesses, causing Ten to clap his hands at his victory, “But I also kind of help out with the treasury since my cousin, Taeyong, is a wreck by himself.” He adds hazily causing Ten to grin in satisfaction.

“Knew it.” Ten sighs as he quips his head to steal a mere glimpse at Johnny, unfortunately for him, the male also chose to do the same. Their eyes lock and Ten feels his heart pounding on his chest for a shrill moment.

“Anyways, it’s just- I don’t have that much time to be honest.” Johnny tries to brush off the awkward and fuzzy momentum, “You seem like a big movie fan though.”

“It’s kind of obvious I guess.” Ten shrugs, he stretches his legs after sitting crossed for the past half an hour, so he ought to move and get on with his day but he couldn’t bother to do so. There was something about Johnny and his perseverant enigma.

“You like Harry Potter?”

“I thought you’d never ask!” Ten exclaims exasperatedly, throwing his arms in the air in celebration.

“I had a feeling you were a Potterhead for some reason.” Johnny snaps his fingers in success, assuming Ten’s preference, “What house are you?”

“Slytherin, always have and always will be.” Ten announces grandly, his face lit up as they continue to delve into a topic he’s always had a burning passion for.

“I think I’m Gryffindor or Hufflepuff.:” Johnny pauses briefly to collect his thoughts, “I’m not sure.”

“Makes sense.”

“Enlighten me, I’m curious.”

And so Ten does, his eyes are glowing with interest and enthusiasm as he construes house values and brings them into comparison with the teaspoon of knowledge about Johnny’s personality and moralities he is aware of. Johnny notices how Ten’s willing to unravel and untangle the elucidated web that he is when he talks about the things he loves. He distinguishes the contrast between how dull Ten’s eyes usually are and how they spark alive and how he can see the whole universe in them when the male is aflame.

“Why do you like Harry Potter so much? Or films in general at that matter.” Johnny inquires of Ten, as he draws all these conclusions about the male.

Frankly speaking, Johnny wants to snap a shot of Ten and how animated he is when he’s at full bloom, there was something so raw and bare about it that he admired so much.

Ten diverts his attention from Johnny and tries to rearrange his words, there's no relevant reasoning to allow him to pour out his story to this mere stranger. He wants to, however, be as transparent as possible. And to find that balance between the truth and saying too much is a fine line, but Ten has a keen eye and marks it quickly enough that Johnny doesn’t open his mouth again to reiterate his question.

“It’s cheesy but they really are. When I was younger, I wanted to be a wizard so badly that I cried like a fucking pussy when I didn’t receive my Hogwarts letter on my 11th birthday.” Ten admits in small stifles, recounting his childhood.

“I used to spend my birthdays going to the movies, there was this really fancy one in East Village that I went to every year and it was really nice.”

Johnny wants to ask what he meant with used to, what changed? But he knows that Ten would ignore him so he shuts his mouth and continues to liste.

“Well, they’ve just sort of been my escape from reality.” Ten brushes off his words like dust on an expensive porcelain vase, he says it so carelessly that Johnny isn’t irked to ask more.

☆

Ten loved movies.

Ten loved the way they portray the impossible as something just over the horizon.

His fondest memories were the ones where he was no older than 7 and watching Harry Potter with his family, casting spells of his fiction on his sister, ending their days with giggles and laughter.

They assured him that he would be alright in a time where he only had himself.

Make believe worlds made him feel alive when he was in despair.

Ten hopes that they will once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't forget to share your thoughts in the comments respectfully and to share some kudos if you enjoyed reading! Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ODETO10) and [Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/user/gymewm6sqkr42wxfdibu8612e?si=pY85msJ-T6m5IpJJ-AO8kw)


	3. The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know how bothersome it is for writers to link music or playlists with their works but [this playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0SKXHKKXecXvJAkpMKmYfQ?si=kw3U0IH1SbmVEhYGJcHZ6A) was crafted especially by my friend and I.

**They Meet Again**

Johnny forces his eyelids shut, he tries to envision all the possible places that Ten could have run off to. He knows it has to do something with dance, perhaps a studio? But it was common knowledge that all the studios situated in East Village were privately run, so he filters through his day, anecdotes that Ten brought up and suddenly it clicks.

As Johnny crosses the pedestrian’s path, he realizes that Ten is a very vague person. Despite the fact that he shared a lot of comments and stories in his signature unabashedly truthful fashion, he never spoke about himself. It was always about his friends, about his future, but nothing about how he was at the moment. Johnny thinks that he’s only uncovered a few layers of Ten Li. There are many things that Johnny doesn't know about Ten, and it makes him realize that they really are strangers after all.

Yet there's still so much he wants to know about Ten. What was his favorite color? Was he a cat or dog person? How did he act when he was drunk or hungover? These are questions only possible to discover after he peels past the barrier Ten had made such a hassle to put up between himself and the world. Johnny can’t help but miss the feeling that was in the air when Ten was around.

This somewhat morbid acknowledgement causes him to falter momentarily about his knowledge of theatres in East Village. According to his memory and visits to the neighborhood, there was truly one that fit the description that was worth the lenghts Ten had gone to describe it. It was one that he merely glimpsed past as he was rushing to his interview, one that he only saw a snapshot of from the corner of his eye. And if anyone knew anything about Ten, they'd know that he's an absolute sucker for 90s flicks. They would know that he lives and breathes the simplicity of times then, but Johnny isn't exactly aware of it. And it's only a gut feeling, one that he chooses to trust.

Something about the place reminds him of Ten, it seems like a place Ten would drag him to the universe had chosen to intertwine their lives much earlier. A part of Johnny melts at the thought of this fictional universe he’s starting to piece together as he rushes back to the musty old cinema. He feels more passion build within as he pictures them going on dates at quaint little places that the world turns a blind eye on. It's such a crystalline past, one that might've fixed the present day, one that neither of them could afford to have right now.

Johnny feels like a fool. Who did he think he was to leave Ten at the noraebang? In the past few hours, the thought of the Thai boy has crossed his mind more times than he can count. He knows that if he doesn’t seize this opportunity right now, he'll spend the rest of his life comparing every person he’ll love to Ten. There's just something different about how he felt about himself when he was with him, he felt like he was playing the part of someone he liked, someone that wasn’t so far out of sight but someone he couldn’t be.

Johnny can’t deny the fact that his conversation with Seungcheol didn’t irk something within. Seeing the older male reveal his insecurities and his inability to come clean with his parents about something so momentous in his life made him realize that sacrifices are needed to ensure that love grows. Johnny knows that he hasn’t made any for Ten and he hopes that this will change.

Upon arrival at the door of the theater, Johnny notices that they're only screening one film at the time of and pats his pocket and draws a crisp $20 bill. The woman seated behind the counter seems tired and couldn’t give more a fuck at his existence, so he tells her to keep the change before he dashes out of her sight and into the building itself.

The main lobby is extremely spacious and Johnny would argue that it doesn't reflect the ancient red brick exterior of the building. It's quite modern in a sense, decorated minimally and had two large doors that lead to an art gallery and the actual viewing room itself. Johnny takes a deep breath and opens the one that possibly led him to Ten, he doesn't want to waste his time to ponder the possibilities so he pushes them open.

The film at play is a Harry Potter film, how ironic. Admittedly, it is unbeknownst to Johnny which one it was, but nonetheless he enters the chilly room and scans the perimeters. There's only a few taken seats there, most people opting to spend the oddly bright winter day outdoors, loittered like stars in the sky.

And there he is. Ten Li, in all his glory.

They lock eyes for a moment and relief floods Johnny.

Alas, the same cannot be said about Ten.

☆

**Ten**

Ten does not want to see Johnny Suh’s face.

And so he does what he’s best at,

Not dancing,

Not singing,

Not painting,

He runs.

☆

**Johnny**

“I’m sorry.”

This catches Ten’s attention.

“Go save yourself. I know what you want.”

☆

**Try Again**

Johnny is unsure how to react to Ten’s statement. It's so profound and final that he momentarily considered that perhaps, this is the end.

That perhaps, he was never meant to meet Ten Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul and be a part of his misadventures.

However this doesn’t stop Johnny from being certain that he’ll miss the mischievous glint in Ten's eyes whenever given the opportunity to wreak havoc.

Johnny knows that he’ll miss his touch, his lithe fingers on his skin.

His shining eyes that light up at the mention of his friends.

His sharp tongue that can pierce the toughest of hearts.

His mere existence.

For a moment, he considers moving on.

But he remembers that this isn’t about him, this is about Ten. This is about making sure that Ten has a future in this city, this is for Ten.

And when you love someone, you’re willing to try again.

“Please go back, don’t do it for me.” Johnny shouts aloud from the theater entrance as Ten heads to the other exit, a few heads turn in annoyance at the taller boy but he doesn’t care.

Ten walks further away from Johnny and they both know that the picturesque fantasy they had woven together for themselves is crumbling away every step Ten takes.

Johnny is desperate so in a bout of exasperation he shouts out once more.

“Do it for yourself, you deserve it.”

☆

**For Myself**

Ten flinches at Johnny’s words, he feels goosebumps on his arms as a tingle crawls down his spine. He’s spent his whole life knowing that he wasn’t enough, that he needed to work harder to achieve the American dream. There was nothing warming or comforting about his home in the past few years. Not since his father’s passing. Words of reassurance were a foreign melody to his ears but he wasn’t opposed to them.

Ten’s always prided himself as an independent person, having had to become ‘man of the house’ at the tender age of 16. He juggled teaching dance at a local community center and shifts at his mum’s restaurant for years yet always making time for his own personal artistic endeavours. But he can’t deny the fact that he knows he’ll never be enough.

To be enough. That’s all Ten’s wanted, he isn’t sure where this craving for acceptance originated from but it’s always been there. However he can’t help but feel like he’s asking for too much. There are so many people with his background who’ve spent their life struggling much harder than he has. So he keeps silent, he keeps his insecurities to himself.

It is surprisingly easy not to throw himself to anyone else and depend on himself. Ten laughs at his friends who confide to one another, thinking that he was much stronger and put together than they wever will be. And when he can’t recognize who’s in the mirror in front of him, he finds a random boy at some party and tries to forget about his problems. Ten isn’t stupid, he knows it isn’t the right way to cope with his feelings but old habits die hard.

Ten wants to be able to love someone else, but he knows that he has to learn to love himself first. The proof is there, because Johnny is standing right there behind him.

But he can’t ignore the fact how Johnny helped him forget how much he hated himself.

Johnny wasn't like the boys at Xu Minghao’s parties, he wasn't like his one night stands who left with his wallet the morning after. He was different. Johnny cared about him, he bought him boba and asked him how he felt. It was enlightening, it was fresh and Ten liked it. Johnny’s behaviour didn’t come forced or insincerely, it came to him as naturally as how Ten found dancing to be.

And now he's here, telling him all the things he’s been wanting to hear for years. Ten doesn’t know whether Johnny is being sincere or not, but he decides to take a page from the older boy's book and does one good thing for himself.

Ten sighs and climbs back to the main entrance of the theater where Johnny is standing, his heart going a mile a minute. When he reaches the very top row, and is near the exit, he locks eyes with Johnny once more. The air is heavy laced with an underlying sense of tenacity, Ten opens his mouth to say a witty insult but he shakes his head and says something else instead.

“You fucked up. Big time, you know that right?”

Just because he loves him, it doesn't mean that he was willing to look past all his mistakes.

When you love someone, it’s harder to tell them the truth.

But if you truly do love them, you eventually do.

☆

**Picking Up the Pieces**

Johnny is in disbelief at the sight of Ten exiting the cinema with him. He’s distraught by the fact that his choice of wording worked. He wants to punch the air in celebration but he knows the timing is awful. So they stay silent all throughout the walk back to Neo Law. It's almost laughable how anticlimactic it is, and they both know it. The only sound coming from their way in the midst of the New York hustle is the sound of their boots crunching on fallen leaves.

It's awkward and toe-curling, an oddity to see both of them mute and acting like strangers. Johnny wants to say something, an apology or an explanation of his actions but he can’t bring himself to do so. He's already done so much to Ten and he didn’t want to hurt him anymore.

Ten wants to utter complain, he wants to scream at Johnny for leaving him when he was the most vulnerable emotionally and physically. Ten wants to swear as much as he can yet he holds back his feelings like he always does. But this is Johnny, someone he isn’t afraid of judging him, so as they’re a block away from the interview building, he opens his mouth.

“Why did you leave?” The question lingers in the air like the afterscent of cheap cologne, it remains and Johnny can’t help but freeze on the spot.

“I panicked.”

“That’s not a valid excuse you know?” Ten stops walking, his arms crossed as he leans against a pole in front of a store. His face seemed disheartened and riddled with disappointment, his eyes trained on the deep cracks and gaps in the pavement. “Why did you leave?”

“I’ll tell you later, you have to get to your interview now.” Johnny exclaims, in an attempt to brush off the matter, examining the miniscule distance from where they stood from Neo Law. He taps his foot rhythmically on the ground to the beat of a miscellaneous jingle that had began to play from a television at the electronics shop behind them.

“5 minutes won’t hurt anyone.” Ten retorts sardonically, his voice mocking Johnny’s suggestion, deservedly so, “Why did you leave?”

The reiterated question drifts idly in the space between the two males and Johnny knows that he has to answer it as candidly as possible. Ten wasn’t one to repeat his words, his entire existence demanded constant stares and speedy responses to his every move. So when he does, it catches people by surprise.

“I couldn’t handle more bullshit in my life.”

Johnny isn't lying, he didn’t. And if he were thinking logically at this moment, he knows that he had bitten off more than he could chew. That he was forcing it with Ten, that whatever relationship that he had painted was impossible. But he's done. He's done playing the fool, being someone he wasn’t, just for the sake of pleasing society. Meeting someone that clicked with him as well as Ten was a once in a lifetime ordeal and he doesn't want it to go down the drain.

“Then why are you here?” Ten quirks his eyebrow upwards, his eyes squinting at the direction of the building this time, it stands grandly on the cross section of a wide street. The windows luminescent, subject to rays of sunlight bouncing off of one another.

“I didn’t realize people around me had their own problems of their own, as apparent as it is.” Johnny scoffs, he keeps his eyes on his feet, unable to meet Ten’s gaze. As beautiful as they were, they were beyond intense, especially whenever he was feeling too much at once. “I had a conversation earlier. It changed my mind about a lot of things.”

“It made me apprehend that if I really did feel things for you.” Johnny explains, his head turns to face Ten, his words are slow and clad with a sense of hesitation. But it doesn't take a moron to notice the underlying earnest manner of his words and his jutting persistence. “I had to make a move, I had to take that step forward.”

“I was stupid for being unaware of the fact that I had someone I loved that made saying goodbye so hard.”

It's an odd moment but Johnny could feel the distance between them be inexplicable fading and for the first time today, he thinks that things seemed like they might just work out in both of their favor. The layer of suspense is patiently peeled as Ten’s gaze mildens, mirroring pools of hazelnut spread.

“Took you long enough.” Ten responds briskly, his eyes meet with Johnny’s, they're glinting faintly, “And did you just quote Winnie the Pooh?”

“Was hoping you didn’t realize.” Johnny bites his lips and responds softly, his hands are freezing and he shoves them in his pockets, gravelling for warmth.

Ten deems the tension between them unecessary so he cuts to the chase.

“Why did you lie to me though? Doyoung told me that you’re going to be taking med.” His voice doesn't seem as upset but it's evident that remnants of disappointment prevailed.

“I can ask you the same thing you know?” Johnny scoffs, glad that they reconciled, kind of. “We all have our own flaws and secrets that we want to hide from strangers and potential lovers.”

They’re both blushing messes, things aren;t about to get better immediately but Ten knows that it's his turn to take a step forward. The rollercoaster of a day they’ve had has brought forth more emotions and feelings than they both thought they had within. Ten can’t forgive Johnny just quite yet, but he knows he doesn’t want to leave things like they are so he takes a stride forward, metaphorically and literally.

“Which one am I?” Ten asks, he approaches Johnny hesitantly, his left hand toying with his plethora of piercings on his ear as a way to prevent an onslaught flow of anxiety.

“Both, unless you want to change that?”

“Sure.” Ten smiles as he wraps his arms around Johnny’s broad shoulders, the older boy however refuses the embrace and instead he pulls them apart.

“I’ll always want it to be you, there's always something new to discover about you.” Johnny whispers as he holds Ten’s hands in his own, they're far smaller than his and they seem nearly petite in comparison.

“I think the universe hates us, there have been moments in our past that we could have met but-”

“Could you just kiss me already?” Ten interjects, his right hand cupping Johnny’s cheek, “I know you’ve been wanting to spew this romantic bullshit to someone but damn, I’m late for the interview.”

“Sure.” Johnny laughs, a laughter so intoxicating and spell-binding that passerbys stare. But they don’t care anymore, they’re finally together.

And so they kiss.

This time their masks of deceit are abandoned on the pavement.

All that remains is young love at its profound finest.

☆

**Blissful Ignorance**

Johnny can't help but notice how giggly Ten is when they kiss, it’s unexpected and uncalled for but it doesn’t mean that he doesn't like it. The sound of his laughter rings in his ears like the windchimes that hang above his parents’ bedroom door. It's melodic and a constant reminder that he's home.

He peeks one eye open and sees how Ten is standing on his tippy-toes to reach his face and his heart beats faster. It’s the little things that get him, it’s a minor gesture in comparison to the million things that’s happened that day but it didn’t make it any less beautiful. The fact that someone was risking a small inconvenience for his love seemed so romantic.

It’s like everything’s been put on pause, and Johnny just wants to rewind the moment over and over again. He doesn’t want to let Ten go, not as they kiss in the middle of a bustling street, probably causing an inconvenience for everyone else passing by. Johnny wants to encapsulate the moment in a snowglobe, something to remind him that no matter how seldom and how concealed some good days are, they come by sometimes.

Johnny is overwhelmed, it’s been a while since he felt anything that wasn’t strictly sour. He knows that his path will diverge from Ten’s in the span of a few hours but it doesn't make the moment any less whimsical. He savors the bittersweetness of the day and stores it in a little locket to open on bad days, a constant reminder of Ten Li and his wondrous ability to make everything magical.

Ten on the other hand notices that Johnny’s hugs are intense, they’re bone crushing but he quickly notes that they bring forth the best sort of pain. They’re warming like a mug of cocoa topped with an abundance of marshmallows and whipped cream on a solemn winter day like this. They're perhaps even more comforting if he's going to be completely frank.

Johnny smells faintly of the rain and strongly of fresh laundry, cotton and home overpowering the stench of his mistakes. Ten doesn’t mind, or he tries not to, as he focuses on the scent of fabric softener that he sniffs from Johnny’s turtleneck, it’s clean and certainly not the dollar store kind that he uses. It's was something more refined and sophisticated, something that cost more. Despite the fact that Ten is unaware that the article of clothing belonged to someone else, he’s deluded by the fact that he and Johnny live oppositical lives.

And at that moment, Ten realizes that even if they had met in a universe where they had been handed a different deck of cards, he knows that their life wouldn't be perfect either. Ten knows his mother would still chastasize him for running off after someone who had too much, leaving his dignity in the dust. God knows what Johnny had in store, he wasn’t even out of the closet for fuck’s sake. Ten tries not to think of the casualties and tries to picture this impossible future. 

Unbeknownst to Johnny, Ten has built a small future for them in the depths of his mind, one where they run off to a small town in New Hampshire perhaps and live the rest of their lives off the beaten path. The only dilemmas they’d share being whether they wanted to adopt a tabby cat or a golden retriever. It’d end with Ten caving to Johnny and getting used to the idea of yellow fur on his furniture. It would be nothing like the obstacles they had to face in their youth. Life would be simple.

But even Ten knows it’s one thing to dream and another to seize the moment and chase after it. Ten also knows that after a lifetime’s worth of running, that it's okay. That even if he didn’t get the permission to stay a bit longer, he would be fine with it, because he's finally ready. Ten realizes that he’s ready to let go of New York. It’s bittersweet and he can’t deny that he’ll miss the city more than the Sun craves to meet the Moon.

Ten can’t help but reflect on his day as they untangle their lips and he throws his arms around Johnny’s shoulders once more. It's oddly impressive and concerning all the same how they've managed to fit a lifetime’s worth of melodrama and dilemmas within the span of 10 hours. And yet, their story isn't half way done either. Ten notices that in the lapse of a day, that he not only recounts all the memories he's made in Manhattan, he’s also made new ones with someone he knows he loves more than the city.

And although they will be spread finely across 8,651 miles and across the Atlantic Ocean,

Ten knows he’s ready to let go because he’s found his home in Johnny Suh.

☆

**Back to Reality**

“What the fuck-”

A harsh punch greets Johnny back to reality as passersbys gasp aloud and Ten yells in exclamation. The hand finds its way to his face with much ease as he successfully pushes Ten backwards, causing the shorter boy to stumble into someone else’s arms.

The pain unfurls like a lit flame dancing on his cheek, Johnny can’t process anything, he’s simply stunned.

Johnny tumbles to the ground, not due to the impact of the slap but because he’s just taken aback to process anything. It’s funny how things can seem so eternally incandescent one moment and then in the next everything proceeds to be thrown off the rails.

“Back off Nakamoto!” It’s Doyoung, his voice is prudent but he isn’t enthralled in separating the attacker from Johnny either. He's calm and stern, a lonesome boat stranded in the midst of a storm.

“He fucking ruined Ten’s day!” Johnny realizes the attacker’s identity. He's a vivid caricature of Ten’s friend, the silver haired manga like character from the cafe, Yuta. Johnny’s face is burning up, it’s quickly turning a violent red from sheer shame and the pain of the slap.

“Yeah we know but you can’t fucking punch someone!” It’s Taeyong, his voice shrill and sounding like he had just cried, Johnny isn't sure with what the left side of his face swollen to a certain degree.

Yuta attempts to rebutt and he is shushed by the faint voice of a gentle figure, he has chestnut hair and is wearing a salmon colored sweater. Johnny can’t tell but it’s Dong Sicheng, the silent but comforting Chinese boy that Ten trusts more than anyone in the whole world. And for a moment, Johnny sends a silent thank you to him.

“Man, we know Johnny fucked up but like you didn’t have to punch him.” Jaehyun shakes his head as he extends a freezing hand to Johnny and helps him up.

Johnny wants to say something but he acknowledges that everyone in the vicinity was still angered at his behaviour so he keeps his mouth shut and leans his back onto a street lamp. The heat on the metallic surface thaws his back and subsequently his body. But he knows that no warmth can compete with Ten’s hugs. Johnny isn’t stupid.

“Shut up everyone!” It’s the unknown boy from the lobby, he's the only person who seemed to still remain sane in the midst of the dilemma, “Okay, Doyoung, Sicheng and Yuta, take Ten back to the building.” He states blatantly, his words are astringent and definite, and he doesn’t seem like someone to mess with so nobody argues.

Kun is generally a soft and it's common knowledge how he's a rather caring person, he patches up the aftermath of Yuta and Ten’s fuck-ups and he makes sure no one gets hurt. He’s the sober one at parties, the one who makes sure everyone gets home and tucked into their beds safely. Kun is the authoritarian figure in their group of five, he’s their help line and he’s probably the most precise and diligent person Ten knows. This time his role is seemingly no different.

“No, I’m going in there with Johnny.”

It’s Ten, his first words are steely and each word sounds heavy. Everyone is taken aback at his statement, or command at that, but they raise no objections. Not even Yuta, who’s sweating in December for Christ’s sake. Not Taeyong, who’s biting his fingernails in trepidation. And certainly not Kun, whose jaw is slightly tilted open. He looks at each of the seven boys, some familiar and some not, and he lends a hand to Johnny and paints a faint smile on his thin pink lips.

“Let’s go.”

The words echo in Johnny’s ears, a constant admonition that he, too, is loved.

But to Ten, it’s a perpetual reminder that loving someone does indeed take a lot of courage.

☆

**Hands Held**

Ten can’t express how perfectly his hand fit in Johnny’s. He doesn’t mind how Johnny's got rough calluses from sports, he remembers a few mentions of basketball, but it could’ve been volleyball all the same. Ten doesn’t care, he finds character in his imperfections. Perhaps romance novels were right, perhaps soulmates exist. Ten thinks he’s getting ahead of himself but he can’t help but find solitude in Johnny.

Ten notices that the Sun and the Moon, despite seeming not too far apart to outsiders, they’re a hundred and fifty million kilometers apart. Ten thinks it’s funny, how people from outside the city would assume they knew each other, knew of each other’s existence, especially with their overlapping friend groups. But they didn’t, afterall chance has a funny way of working. This being said, Ten can’t say he appreciates its taste in humor.

But as they walk in peace across to Neo Law, Ten sees glimpses of it. A genuinely realistic future. He’d be in Bangkok, trying to get his GED or finish high school. He’d get shifts at a local cafe that played stereotypical French music all day everyday. And after work he’d wind down and pop open a can of coke and dial Johnny’s number. Something that he'll eventually know by heart.

Johnny's voice will be a beacon of comfort and an eternal reminder of his final day in New York. It’s not difficult for Ten to envision how he’ll fall asleep on the phone with Johnny, when the taller male is getting ready for his day. He doesn’t realize it then and there but in the near future he’ll figure out that they’ll truly become the Sun and the Moon, so far apart yet not.

Things will be difficult and they’ll be further apart than they could initially imagine but they’ll manage. Or at least that’s all Ten can only do, he can only hope. He’s never been much of a believer of any faith but he’s always acknowledged the existence of the basics of any belief, karma and sin, chance and fate. This time, he’s holding onto them, he can only beg fate is kind to him.

Despite all that’s happened, Ten’s glad. He’s bittersweet and conflicted at how to deal with the uncertainties of the next few hours but all he can do is have faith. Because fate isn’t cruel, it wants us to be happy, to be in fluorescence but we can only pray that chance tides to our wishes. And Ten has proof to believe that he might stay. Afterall he and Johnny found each other in the crevasses of New York City on his very last day in the city. If finding the one during detrimental times tells you anything, it tells you that chance is in your favor.

☆

**Right Outside The Door**

Johnny is wavering as they approach the intimidating entrance of Neo Law, his grip on Ten tightens but the male doesn’t say a word. The smaller boy doesn’t voice a complaint as he usually would. This tells Johnny that he too is nervous beyond measure. So instead of loosening his hold, he twirls Ten closer to him, allowing him to fall onto his arms creating a small bubble of laughter. It's no solution but it made him smile, which frankly was all Johnny can do for him at that moment.

“I have something to ask.” It’s Ten, his eyes are lazy and he blinks a few times to knock off his sleepiness, “You’re going to take med?"The question strikes something in Johnny, it’s the first time he’s gotten asked after his rather revolutionary conversation with Seungcheol.

Johnny considers stumbling back to his usual response, of which was a brief ‘yes’, no display of emotion and no indication that he couldn’t be bothered to spend his life enclosed in botox and syringes. But this is Ten, someone who would still be able to see through him, someone who didn’t need more lies in his life. So Johnny spins him back around, and holds both of Ten’s hand with a sense of grace.

“Was going to.”

“What does that mean?” Ten quirks an eyebrow as he carefully dismantles their hand holding and folds his arms systematically, “Don't fuck with me."

“Well, I was going to. But my interviewer guy, he ultimately told me that I should pursue what I wanted.” Johnny hums, he leans his head onto a freezing metal pole, his arm awkwardly wrapped around it. "And hearing it from him, it just felt different."

“And so you’re going to apply to Parsons?”

“I applied already, and I got a partial scholarship, stupid.” Johnny scoffs, feigning offense as Ten’s mouth widens into an ‘o’ shape.”I wouldn’t have lied about something so incandescent.” He pauses before choosing an adjective to describe the institution that they had both dreamed of attending.

“Now it’s my turn to ask, before this whole thing happened, did you actually apply?” Johnny asks slowly, he pieces the words intricately, in an attempt to prevent any unnecessary arguments between them, especially in such a crucial moment like this.

“Of course I did, and unlike you, I got a full ride, tuition, dorm, everything.” It’s Ten’s turn to smirk in immense smugness, his arms still folded, Johnny is unaware whether it was for warmth or for petty purposes. No matter the reason, Johnny can’t help but approach Ten, his steps are light, and hugs him tightly.

“That’s fantastic.” He breathes on top of Ten’s head, he mildly expects Ten to push him away in fake disgust but to his surprise, he feels hands outreach and wraps around his waist. They’re slim and they’re distinctly Ten’s. 

“Are you nervous?” Johnny asks as they untangle from their brief hug and walk inside the building, this time the grandeur of the lobby doesn't cause either of them to flinch. 

“I was never nervous.” Ten scoffs, avoiding Johnny’s gaze, it wasn’t piercing neither did it demand attention yet he couldn’t face it.

“Then why’d you run off earlier?” Johnny teases as the two walk over to the

“Shut up.” Ten whines in complaint causing a few office-workers to quip their heads in their direction, “Never bring it up ever again in the future.” He states as he wags his pointer upwards to Johnny’s face as his cheeks flush scarlet.

Every interaction between them always left one of them either a flustered mess or a complete wreck.

“In the future? This pertains to the fact that we will have a future together.” Johnny concludes, his left hand stroking his make believe beard, in imitation of the depictions of scientists at the museums he loved so much.

“When will you stop clowning me Suh?”

“I never will.”

“Good.” Ten smiles candidly, he means it, because they both know what his question meant. “Could you accompany me to the guy's office? These places intimidate the fuck out of me.”

“Alright.” Johnny shakes his head as he punches in the button situated beside the elevator doors, he entangles his other hand around Ten’s, they slot into each other like puzzle pieces. This causes Ten to groan in annoyance but Johnny knows that the smaller male was discreetly pleased.

“Do you even know what floor my interviewer’s on?” Ten rolls his eyes a few moments after the lift bell dings, his back arched on the east wall of the elevator. His words challenge a guess from Johnny, one that he was so sure that he would get wrong.

“17th floor, 5th door from the left.” Johnny guesses blindly, it’s Seungcheol’s office, it was a slim chance but what are the odds that they meet on the same day and they suddenly find each other in the same building.(Well not exactly, but you know what he means)

“How did- How did you know?” Ten mutters in disbelief, his face pales as he scrambles to reach his mobile phone in his back pocket, “Kun told you, did he not?”

Kun must be the name of the boy whose name Johnny was unaware of.

“No, that’s my interviewer’s office.”

And for a moment, they both think that fate must’ve forgotten that they were bound to be together.

That suddenly, it recalled that they were destined for one another, and threw a bunch of possible chances for them to meet on Ten’s last day.

Or perhaps, they were simply never meant to meet and it was a retaliation made by chance.

☆

**Another Secret Divulged (He’s Lucky)**

Ten is no fool, he knows that he wouldn’t bother to apply to deter his deportation if he wasn’t special. Sure, he doubted himself more than anyone in the whole fucking world but it didn’t mean that he didn’t acknowledge the fact that he wasn’t that bad in art.

Perhaps ‘that bad’ is an understatement, because Ten’s a constant target for straight As in Literature and Art for the past decade or so. Ten’s not stupid, it’s just that he never really thinks about his abilities as much more than anything than a hobby. Because as Ten is not dumb, he is also realistic, he knows he won’t get far painting abstract depictions of people. He knows that art doesn’t feed stomachs.

And when he receives an email notifying him as one of the only receptors of the scholarship grant at Parsons, Ten bites his lip. Perhaps he was going places.

But then his sister had to go caught vandalizing abandoned private sectors and drinking as a minor. Sometimes Ten wishes that she could’ve been more considerate in the midst of her own breakdown, except Ten knows what it feels to crack under the immense pressure that was placed brazenly on his back. Afterall there have been dozens of points where he had almost been captured by adults for smoking or doing something far from legal. He’s just lucky he’s never been caught.

Ten’s spent his fair share of time smoking pot and being under the influence, a bit too tipsy when he’s reached home. And frankly, it could’ve been him who would’ve led to their deportation. He’s just lucky. Ten chants the word like a mantra to himself. He’s just fortunate that he came to his senses and picked himself together during junior year. Afterall, he didn’t want to come up to his college interviews clothes smelling of musty weed and the scent of straight vodka in his breath.

He’s lucky that his mother’s never caught him sneaking in and out of the house in the ungodly hours of the night (and occasionally morning). Ten’s blessed that his teachers never notice the faint stench of alcohol wafted in his words because they’re far too charmed by the eloquence of his speech. His luck used to get him out of all his problems, but Ten is unsure whether it’ll save him now.

He used to think that he could lend or borrow his endless bout of fortune to others, especially his sister. There were points in his childhood when he used to think that he was a wizard, capable of spreading wisdom and power to those who seeked. It’s no secret that Ten was and still is a major nerd. But a memory he truly treasured were those days in the summer time where he’d encourage his sister to pursue what she wanted. May it be asking their parents for that one doll she had wanted for so long or learning how to ride a bicycle without training wheels. Ten was always there to give that final push.

But this fades and their relationship too began to crumble into unsalvageable pieces. May grew up and so did Ten. 

But then junior year stumbles around and his dad passes away. It doesn’t take the family by surprise, the only conversations at the dining table had been about medicine and bills upon bills and they had been for a long time. Ten can’t deny that this didn’t leave him empty for a fucking long time. His father was his anchor during tough times at sea, he was what grounded him. And now he was gone.

Ten thinks it’s quite ironic that what cleans him up is what edges his sister’s downfall. Before their father’s death, May was the put together one, she was always the someone that their parents could always depend on when he was off god knows where. She wasn’t as clever as he was at school, nor was she as talented in other fields of sports or art, but she was responsible. And that was what their mother took pride in her for.

While Ten finds himself attempting to lay off cigarettes, he finds his sister’s breath ashy and her words coarse whenever she opens her mouth. It doesn’t catch him by surprise, but he could never bring himself to confront her, so he stays silent. Ten stays mum when he hears his mother shout at his sister for wearing ‘scandalous’ outfits, staying out late and hanging out with strangers in visceral places.

Ten can’t help but sigh as he refuses cups upon cups of cheap tequila at parties. His attempts aren’t completely fruitless as they lead to him being slightly more active in his everyday life, as he takes on more and more shifts at his mother’s restaurant to compensate for the lack of vibrance in his life. Sure there were moments where he would cave and snag a cig from Yuta’s breast pocket and light it in the alley behind the soddy apartment complex they lived in. His father’s sudden absence in his life left a massive dent in his life but it wasn’t a reason that he chose to destroy his life.

So in a sense, Ten understands where his sister had been coming from. But he doesn't understand it well enough to the point of defending her when their mother would scream at her for nights in a row. Ten knows that May is his sister, and his only flesh and blood but his future had been at stake. Ten can’t help but feel immense guilt whenever he ponders on the what-ifs. Because he, too, had also been at fault at times.

Ten picks himself together because the only thing he truly wants is a better future for himself, and even one for his sister. So he can only take a deep breath as he pushes open the doors to his interviewer’s study, his eyes sharpening and his heart pounding on his chest like a million drums at once.

Some things are just worth fighting for.

☆

**A Moment of Contemplation, Part One : Ten**

Seungcheol’s private study is embellished differently from the rest of the office, gleaming in the essence of the twenty-first century and begging to differ from the mustiness of the place. Ten admires the subtle finishing to the wallpaper, it isn’t tacky and it's astonishing how clear it was that it was decorated at a different period of time and by a person born in a later decade from the rest of the establishment.

Seungcheol notices Ten’s surprise, his clients always do, they always seemed shocked by the fact that he isn’t above 50 and by the change of scenery upon entrance of his space. He urges Ten to take a seat, his words are stern but it’s clandestine that he cares about him. Seungcheol cares for every single one of his clients, he knows the feeling of abandoning home was hard and that they didn’t need anymore neglect and sovereignty in their lives. So instead, he welcomes them with a knowing smile and a cup of warm tea.

Initially Wumei insisted on paying for his assistance upon helping Ten, but he refused, he had enough money to take on another pro-bono case this December. Plus, Christmas was nearing, and no one needed anymore bullshit from some crappy immigration lawyer before the holidays. So Seungcheol sets aside his personal dilemmas and faces Ten with his arms crossed upon his desk.

“Hello, it’s Ten right?” He begins, his words are stiff, and understandably so, his phone call with his mother didn’t end the way he idealized it to be but it wasn’t all that bad. Afterall, what do you expect to hear after you phone your mom telling her you’ve been married for 2 years with your roommate?

“Yes.” Ten answers, his words are solemn but he still manages to answer rigidly.

“So I spoke with the judge earlier, and they were willing to delay your voluntary removal.” Seungcheol answers, his words cut to the chase. Suddenly, Ten’s breath hitches and everything pauses, he claws at his chest as tears begin to dribble down his cheeks. Relief floods his system.

It’s not an exaggeration to say that Seungcheol breaks bad news to people quite well. Afterall it’s a skill he’s unknowingly mastered from his years at his job. So he allows Ten to collect himself and notice the purposeful contextual errors he’s made in his announcement.

“What do you mean mine? What about my sister’s or my mother’s?”

Ten is no moron, he picks up on things faster than most people his age.

“That’s the thing, your sister has a record, and although she is still a juvenile, they aren’t pretty either.” Seungcheol answers, his voice prudent as he tries to figure out the expression Ten is displaying in his eyes.

“She’s 15.”

“The government acknowledges that, but she’s also broken the law. Multiple ones at that.”

“She’s 15.” Ten repeats his words, this time with more tenacity. He’s aware of the fact that these exact spontaneous actions that he’s acting out might lead him to follow his sister’s fate but he shrugs it away.

“Ten, let’s focus on you for a moment.” Seungcheol suggests after much thought, he’s learnt that in his years as an immigration lawyer that allowing his clients time to acknowledge their reality brought them a sense of solace that couldn’t be brought forth by anything he could possibly say. “You’re staying.”

“What about my mom? She’s literally never broken the law before.” Ten pierces through, disregarding Seungcheol’s proclaimation, “For fuck’s sake, she’s spent the last 12 years cooped between three places. Our dingy ass apartment, our restaurant, which spoiler alert is connected to our place, and the local community center.”

Ten doesn’t know what got into him, he doesn’t know why he used the F-bomb in front of the person who might be the key to his stay. He doesn’t know why he’s defending his sister, or his mother, people he didn’t think much of for so long of his life. He’s been so selfish for years, but at this point, he can't even think of himself. Ten can only think of his mother and his sister, being 8,651 miles away from him.

“Hey kid, I know you’re feeling a lot of things. But I’ve seen cases like yours before, as rare as they are. However I’m more or less positive that things are going to be okay.” Seungcheol seems oddly confident in his words, as if he was certain that everything would go as planned.

Ten wants to scream at his face, but he doesn’t. For multiple reasons, first of which being he didn’t think the poor man deserved to be yelled at for something that wasn’t even his fault. Second of all, he was tired and third of all, he did not want to ruin the closest thing he’s got to a choice.

“Do you want me to explain anything?”

“Why won’t my mother be able to stay?”

“That’s complicated, now the government usually doesn’t grant voluntary removals to be overturned but you’re special.”

The word doesn’t seem so bad in this context.

“Special as in..?”

“Special as you have a full ride scholarship to Parsons, the artistic equivalent to Harvard.” Seungcheol scoffs aloud in disbelief that this seemingly clever 17 year old boy was incapable of seeing his own strengths, “Ten, you’re going to make a large contribution to the USA and the government can tell.”

“That’s stupid, just because I’m good at painting and I might be able to please the rich people who feed the economy with my work doesn’t mean shit.” Ten responds, his words are tinted with sarcasm, but the lawyer understands him despite his naivety.

“Ten, it seems like you don’t want to stay.”

“I want to stay!” Ten exclaims, ready to rebut Seungcheol’s blatant proclamation, but he notices a hint of truth in the older’s words, “I just don’t know if it’s fair to my family.” The final word falls deep, and Seungcheol can easily deduce the state of their household’s relationship with one another.

“Your mother hasn’t exactly contributed much to the country and your sister has a criminal record.” The lawyer responds softly, his words aren’t his, it’s merely what is written on the report situated in front of him, stuck in the space between the two of them.

“Who decides what exactly a contribution is? My mother's fed a countless amount of people food when they were homeless or trying to make ends meet.” Ten begins, he doesn’t know why he’s confiding his emotions with Seungcheol this but these words and feelings seemed so pent in that he had to say them out loud at that very moment, “The government doesn’t have proof of that, because we can’t report it to anyone because we’re fucking illegal immigrants.”

“It’s a messed up cycle, I’m aware.” Seungcheol nods in agreement, he doesn’t bother to argue with Ten’s logic because it’s the reality of the system, “But the government, or the judge in this matter, can only derive their decisions from what’s written on paper.”

“There’s so much that happens in our lives that isn’t documented on social media or on a Google Document somewhere.” Ten replies, his words are weak and he knows that expressing his emotions was fruitless but he continues on nonetheless, “They don’t know whether I did the same things my sister did, I could’ve easily drank booze on the way here and they wouldn’t know.”

“Fair enough.” The older male shrugs his shoulder, admittedly amongst the dozens of youth he’s met that have sat on the same very chair that Ten was sat on, he was springing up numerous points with a refined sense of reality that Seungcheol has never heard before. “I don’t think you should be telling me this though, you might lose the only good thing you have now.”

“And what is that?”

“The option to stay or to leave.” Seungcheol answers, he spins around his chair in an attempt to waft away the tense atmosphere in the room, “I think you’re smart enough to choose which one.”

“I’m afraid you don’t know me well enough.”

☆

**A Moment of Contemplation, Part Two : Johnny**

Seungcheol’s office is the same, the same old people furniture, the same ambience in the air, the only thing that differed is Ten’s presence.

Jeonghan’s mouth gapes at the sight of Johnny and Ten’s entrance, he’s spent a good few years mandating the office but he’s never seen a situation so complex. A boy seeking an admission interview with his husband holding hands with a client on impending deportation. It certainly isn’t an everyday sight, however Jeonghan knows not to say a word to them, instead cordially inviting Ten to Seungcheol’s space.

Ten gives a thumbs up to Johnny, an awkward gesture, but Johnny responds with two causing the smaller male to shake his head and sigh.

Johnny is left there, sitting up straight on the brick red leather sofa set that lined the east corner of the office, his hands flipping through a business magazine mindlessly. His eyes are out of focus and all he can see are quick glimpses of attractive male models with their wrists displaying a watch that probably costs more than his father’s car. The ads promoted a lifestyle of grandeur, of perfection, and working in a building like Seungcheol did is a mere step closer to achieving it.

Johnny knows he’s fucked, the moment he steps foot in the Suh residence, gone are all his mobile phone and going out privileges until the next century. But he knows he deserves it, he deserves it for leaving home without a verbal explanation and approval from his parents. Johnny can only hope that Ten doesn’t leave, that he can have more days to spend with him, to continue their misadventures after his grounding ends.

Then, he has to explain to his mother that he wants out of Harvard and subsequently wants to decline the rest of his applications to the other schools he’s applied to. They’ll fight and he knows things won’t end well. He might even have to move out and get a job to support his life if his parents choose to disown him. The prospects seemed wide and Johnny is still hesitant on choosing which path.

“So are you going to still take med?”

It’s Jeonghan, the older man is sitting behind the counter that is situated in the middle of the waiting room. He’s scrolling through his phone, the violent rays of light illuminating his rather pale complexion. His eyes indicated that he's absorbed with whatever he was looking at. Johnny's confused on why he still chose to speak to him despite all this. His words are sharp and it sounds like it would be a burden to Jeonghan if Johnny were to open his mouth to ask any question at that matter.

“I don’t think so.” Johnny responds, still fixated at an interview with Bill Gates, his answers are profound but he doubted anyone actually read them. He knows the only people who bought those magazines are rich men who want to flex the fact that they’ve made it or thirty year old jobless losers who still lived in their parents basement trying to figure out what the fuck they wanted to do with their lives. “How do you know I was hesitant to take it?”

“The door is thin as hell kid.” The chestnut haired male scoffs, it wasn’t that he meant to overhear, the door just wasn’t totally soundproofed, “And before you ask, I’m touched that you had empathy for me, surprised that Seungcheol told you all that.”

Johnny bites his tongue for what seems to be the millionth time today but the secretary purses his lips and he doesn’t say a word.

“You could just take a gap year.” Jeonghan reasons, he double-taps what presumably is an Instagram post before he turns off his phone. “That’s what I did when I was confused with what I wanted to do with myself.”

“What did you do in that span of time?” Johnny responds, he was intrigued, he had never really considered a gap year. Afterall he always assumed they were a waste of time and a mere hindrance from the real world, well at least that’s the bullshit his Asian family has spoon-fed him from his youth. But here stood a fellow Asian, fellow Korean-American at that, who was actually encouraging taking a gap year.

“Well, I worked. I had to save up for college and stuff.” Jeonghan begins, he is infatuated and amused at Johnny’s pure naivety, before he counts off his fingers, “I worked in a cafe, at a bar, and a bakery for a year.”

“Did you save up enough?”

“Nope, my parents caved and paid my college tuition.” Jeonghan smiles, or more so he smizes in pleasure upon recalling his parents' doing, “They told me to fuck off after though.” He says the phrase in Korean, this surprises Johnny, but not quite. He notices how there is a faint accent whenever Jeonghan says his ‘r’s an ‘l’s, this leads Johnny to quickly conclude something.

“You’re not American?”

“Well, not quite.” Jeonghan smirks, he has his legs crossed and his elbow leaned to the arm of his chair, “I got my green-card a few years ago. I came here as a university student, and then I married Seungcheol not long after. Hence, the reason I’m here talking to you at 26, and celebrating my 2nd anniversary next week.”

Jeonghan has this air of elegance that Johnny has never seen reflected in anyone but Jaehyun’s stepmother, it's this sense of refinement that has always intimidated him. These are things that most wouldn’t be the most frank or bare about, yet Jeonghan stood, or more correctly, sat, talking about his past like it was the most nonchalant matter at hand.

“Wow, that’s..”

“A lot to take in, I’m aware. But before you ask, I love Seungcheol and I’m eighty percent sure that he also loves me to, considering the phone call he just had.”

Johnny nods in approval by the fact that Jeonghan manages to find his questions and answer them before he could open his mouth. But he supposes that these questions must come frequently to someone like him, so he shuts up before he could make another comment.

“Do you think you rushed into it?” The question is popped after much deliberation on whether it was truly worthed to ask a stranger such an invasive inquiry.

“I guess. But we both knew that there was no one else we wanted to be with.”

“That’s-”

“Fucking cheesy, I know.” The older man laughs, it was odd to see him laugh, his smile too wide and lacking sincerity. But Johnny knows that Seungcheol probably thought it's the best thing to ever exist.

“Do you miss your parents?” Johnny asks, he's enthralled to be able to speak with someone facing something that he could relate to in a sense.

“Yes, and no. My dad worked all the time and my mom had her socialite things to do. They barely spoke to one another, I’m pretty sure they hated each other.” Jeonghan responds as he turns the bronze knob that opened the drawer from underneath his desk. “I’m almost positive they only married for business prospects.” And for a moment, his head is tilted to the left, and Johnny sees it, the resemblance with a figure that he sees constantly on his parents’ television set.

“Wait, you’re the son of the Yoon Empire who was rumored to run off to New York with his male lover.” Johnny scoffs in disbelief, it takes a lot out of him not to stand up and point at the older male from shock. “SBS cycled that story for months, what the fuck.”

“Bingo. Considering the fact that you’re Korean and you’ve got more than two brain cells, I was just waiting for you to say something.” Jeonghan shakes his head as he shuffles a stack of paper that is laid on the center of the counter, they’re meticulously color-coordinated and filed neatly.

“That’s just the thing kid, you have to make sacrifices to get where you want to be.”

Johnny laughs but he knows that Jeonghan is right.

☆

**Resolutions Come Forth**

Ten walks out of Seungcheol’s office with his heart pounding and his hand grasping Johnny’s tightly. He'd just spoken with his mother over the phone and admittedl6 more than a few tears had been shed, he's sure that he saw a single droplet run out of his lawyer’s eye in the midst of his mother shouting at him for choosing the option he selected. When he resumed speaking English after a few minutes of chattering in his partially broken Thai and his mother had presided over her nagging and thanked him, he looked at the older’s face and whispered a thank you.

“You’re brave Ten.” Seungcheol mutters as Ten begins to tread to the doors, he turns his head around to face the older, a forced smile displayed on his face.

“I’m not brave, I’m just doing the right thing.” Ten responds, he isn’t entirely sure if he’s making the correct decision and he acknowledges the fact that he knows that there will be points where he’ll regret not taking the other path. But he also knows that this is what he’s meant to do.

Johnny doesn’t dare to ask a word, but judging from Ten’s soft smile, he hopes that this whole thing has been resolved and that he will stay. Nonetheless, he is silent.

“They overturned my deportation.” Ten begins, he shifts his gaze to Johnny’s as they enter the elevator and for what seemed like the millionth time that day, it seemed like they were alone together once more.

But before Johnny can react, Ten presses a finger to the taller boy’s lips.

“But I refused it, my mother and sister were still scheduled to leave tonight.”

The statement hits Johnny like a pile of rocks, unsuspecting and causing numerous reactions. In a way, Johnny had expected it to be coming. He knows it in the way that despite Ten's seemingly narcissistic exterior, he cared more about the people around him above all.

“You don’t have to say anything.” Ten whispers as he leans his head into Johnny’s broad chest and encircles his arms around the slightly older male, causing the latter to move forward and place his chin on top of Ten’s head and hug him. Sometimes actions can speak for a thousand words.

“Okay.”

Their arrival to the lobby of the building is greeted by the group of their friends loitered around the elevator. Taeyong is in an animated conversation with Doyoung and Kun, the former no longer biting his nails in bouts of nervosity and instead a glimmer of euphoria is broadcasted faintly. Whereas Jaehyun and Yuta are actually getting along telling some story (That Johnny doesn’t doubt is an argument between whether basketball or soccer is superior; Judging from the fact that they’re feigning sports related movements on the expensive marble flooring) as Sicheng watches from a close proximity.

But when the elevator bell dings, they all quip their heads to stare at who'd just arrived. Ten is partially surprised at the fact that the building security hadn’t shooed them away, but nonetheless he doesn’t comment on it. Instead he approaches Kun and wraps the British male’s hands with his, his face beaming with gratitude.

“Thank you.”

“Are you going to stay?”

“Goddamn it Kun, I’m trying to thank you for once, just fucking accept it.”

“Okay he’s back!” Sicheng proclaims loudly as he rolls his eyes causing a few adults to turn their heads in their direction. 

“Let’s go?” He offers as he realizes the aftermath of his declaration.

They all chuckle as they exit the building, Ten can only feel his heart racing as he tiptoes around the topic. He knows that he can’t lie to his friends about such a detrimental matter. He’s surprised when he feels someone lace their arm around his shoulders, bringing him closer and warming him. It’s Johnny, he doesn’t know whether the taller knew that he was brimming with anxiety or whether it was just a newfound instinct for him. Ten appreciates it nonetheless.

“So where are we headed now?” It’s Jaehyun, he breaks free from his distilled conversation with Yuta to question Johnny, indicating that it's perhaps time to say goodbye to Ten and his unsolicitedly explicit group of friends.

“Ten?”

Fuck. Ten thinks, he'd hoped that Johnny wouldn’t have averted Jaehyun’s question to him. Now he’s bound to explain his case to people he doesn’t even know.

“Well, I was supposed to have a mini party kind of thing with my friends before I leave, I suppose the only difference now is that you three are invited.” Ten responds after much thought, they approach the entrance to a subway station and he pauses to allow the rest to piece together his statement.

“The deportation wasn’t overturned?” Kun interjects, his voice is taken aback and upset, “Seungcheol Choi is undoubtedly one of the best, and mind you, most expensive, immigration lawyers in this city who doesn't happen to be a complete racist and fascist asshole. How did he not overturn yours?” His speech causes Taeyong to raise his eyebrow and Doyoung to cover his face with his hands in a fit of embarrassment.

“Calm down Kun, he did. He just couldn’t convince the judge to overturn my mom and May’s.” Ten shakes his head as he lets go of Johnny’s hold and walks over to Kun, he pats his friend in the back, “I chose to go.”

“Oh my god Ten.” It’s Doyoung this time, he’s now sat on a random bench with his head tucked between his hands, it’s unclear whether he’s crying or laughing from the sounds that he's making. Ten finds it ironic that although he's the one leaving, his friends are the ones overwhelmed with emotion. He supposes it’s because he’s already wasted all his tears from the misadventures he had with Johnny.

“I’m going to be fine.” Ten laughs as he sits beside Doyoung and ruffles the Korean-American boy’s dark hair, “You were the one who was constantly yapping at me to try and get over things.” He adds in a sing-song voice as another person sits beside him, it’s evident it’s Sicheng as the male in question quickly leans his head on Ten’s other shoulder.

“You know that I was just joking, I know it was in poor taste but fucking hell. Why?” Doyoung murmurs as he rubs his eyes with his hands, ignoring all sanitary cautions that he typically upheld to the highest degree. “You hate your mom and your sister.”

Doyoung's words are incredibly coarse and almost brutal to most and Johnny wants to argue that Ten isn’t the asshole that he thought he was. But he remembers that Doyoung’s known Ten for much longer than he did and that he probably isn’t wrong and that he knew his boundaries, he just happened to be the most blatant person to ever walk the Earth.

“I hate them, but they’re my only flesh and blood. If I leave them, I don’t have anyone else in my family.” Ten grimaces, Johnny is correct and Doyoung wasn’t completely wrong.

“You have us.” Yuta pierces through, he shivers at the cringe that dripped through his statement, but he continues on, “You know if you choose to stay, you’ll still have us, you’ll have me at least. I hate you but I love you more than lover boy here.” His words aren’t tinted in its usual sarcasm as he nods in Johnny’s direction, Ten feigns a show of surprise before he steals a glimpse from the male in the topic, making sure he wasn’t offended by his friends’ actions and words.

“I hate to say this, but Yuta’s right.” Ten’s surprised that Taeyong decides to speak up, this boy who had floppy hair and an attractive face that could only second Johnny’s, someone that he was only introduced to moments ago. He’s touched and lets the boy continue, “I don’t really know you but if you choose to stay, I’ll, like, be here for you and shit. Sicheng told me that you dance? I do too, maybe we can practice sometime.”

Ten mouths a silent thanks to him before he opens his mouth again, “I don’t know where this sudden reverse drought of kindness sprouted but I’m touched guys. It’s just, it’s final and it’s not like my mom is the devil. It just isn’t fair for my sister either.” He says, it’s quite difficult for him to urge these words out of him, especially when they’re the exact opposite of what he’s trained himself to say for the past few months.

“Ten, May is the reason you’re in this rut in the first place.” Sicheng interrupts the Thai male, a rarity for the generally solemn boy, “What the fuck?”

“I guess I didn’t want to admit it but, the things she did, I’ve done all of them before.” Ten responds as he leans his on top of of Sicheng’s, in an attempt to reassure him that things were going to be okay in a sense, “It’s not her fault the law caught up to her and it didn’t with me.” He adds shruggingly.

“You’ve vandalized things before?” Kun asks as he raises his eyebrow and in an attempt to lighten the mood, he adds, “What the fuck were you guys up to before I got here?” He shakes his head as everyone else bursts into a sparse moment of laughter.

“Yuta, don’t deny this.” Ten prefaces as he readies himself to tell a short tale, “It was freshman year, and the two of us weren’t invited to this one girl, Jeanette somethin’- somethin’, I can’t remember her surname, it was something white though.” This earns a small round of snickers from everyone.

“Basically we were kind of pissed that none of the POC kids were invited, and like it was kind of obvious that it was done on purpose, so we toilet papered her house and I think I left a piece of paper with the writing ‘fucking racist’ on her doorstep.”

The story is something Johnny could totally envision Ten doing, he's somewhat of a Robin Hood figure, always fighting for the rights of the underrepresented and minorities. He wishes he was like that, someone who was more thoughtful but in a robust sense. This is something he can't change about his past instead something he aims to achieve in the near future. But first, he has to fight for his own future first.

“Hey it’s like nearly 6, we should get going to my place if you guys are up for it.”

“Where do you live?” Taeyong asks, his arms are folded on his chest, but a smirk is on his lips, it’s as pure as day that he's up to spending the rest of the day out, he had 5 hours to spare before his not-so daunting curfew of 11 on Saturdays, something Johnny has envied from his cousin for years.

“Harlem baby.”

☆

**Last Round in Harlem**

The group of eight are silent all throughout the subway ride to the neighborhood Ten’s spent most of his childhood in. Johnny feels tense, despite having lived in New York for more than half his life, he’s never truly visited Harlem and was never that properly acquainted with the area. (“Unsafe! Not nice.” His mother used to say.) His eyes are directed at Kun for a moment, the British-Chinese male seemed relaxed as he gripped onto a pole to prevent himself tumbling down, sharing a pair of earphones with Jaehyun and telling the taller boy about some obscure jazz musician.

Johnny is sincerely surprised at the fact that Kun and Doyoung, both who he either knew or could easily predict, lived rather cushy and protected lives and were so nonchalant about visiting a neighborhood that was highly discouraged to visit. But considering their friendship with Ten, a resident of the area, and how much they cared about him, he knows that they’ve probably sneaked out there more times than they could count. And the funny thing is, he isn’t wrong.

But that isn’t even what Johnny is panicking about, he’s simply nervous upon meeting Ten’s parents, people who he hopes he can gain their respect despite his flaws and numerous insecurities. He hopes that they can see past his fuck ups and notice how he really did love and care for Ten. Perhaps it's because of his constant need of validation to feed his ego, but Johnny really did care albeit the fact that they probably will never meet again.

Somehow, Ten can read his mind, a miracle of sorts.

“You scared?” His voice is hoarse, understandably tired from all the tears spilled, screaming and talking in one day. Ten has his head tucked between a nook underneath Johnny’s, it isn’t the most ideal positioning especially in a subway packed with people but oh well.

“Are you out to your parents?” Johnny responds with a question of his own, his eyes are droopy and sleepy, afterall he’s been awake for the past 48 hours and is currently running on the remnants of his morning coffee.

“Yeah, but you’ll only have to gain my mom’s stamp of approval.” Ten says, he takes Johnny’s hand and cups it between his own, rubbing it with his thumb to soothe the taller male. “You really ought to stop replying to me with more questions.” He adds, shaking his head causing Johnny to scoff and mouth a ‘no’ to him.

“It’s not my fault that I’m scared of the possibility thag t I accidentally kiss my fellow closeted boyfriend in front of his mom.” Johnny jokes as he pecks Ten’s cheek, it’s brief but the smaller male can’t deny the fact that it still made him flutter. No matter how many times they’ve been in such close proximity in the past 12 hours, he can’t help but feel himself bloom whenever they are.

“Did you just call me your boyfriend?” Ten scoffs in an attempt to mask how he felt genuinely flattered, “You really need chapstick, Johnny.” He says as he tries to distract the male beside him from how swiftly scarlett began to invade his cheeks by fussing over his cracked lips.

“You’re literally the same as I am, constantly trying to avoid what the fuck is going on right now.” Johnny smirks as he brushes Ten’s floppy dark brown hair from the shorter’s face, “But seriously, on the flip side, do you want me to, like, call you that?” He bites his bottom lip causing Ten to cringe more as he plays with the numerous and varied types of rings splayed across his fingers.

“I like it, I think it’s sweet Johnny.” Ten says hushedly, almost ashamed at his opinion in front of his friends, “At least I made my choice about my future.” He adds to combat the utter cheesiness of his first statement.

“Ouch.” Johnny pretends to feel offended by Ten’s words as he brushes imaginary ash from his shoulders, “I hate you.”

“Says the guy who self-proclaimed himself as my boyfriend.”

“Oh shut up, I can love and hate you all the same.”

There’s a soft and enjoyable hushedness for a period of time as they pass through several districts, they continue their shenanigans ocassionally bringing up stupid things about their day and cliches from their seperate past lives. But then, Johnny remembers, he remembers the one thing he’s been quite curious about from the start of the day.

“What about your dad?”

The question is something that catches Ten off-guard, something that doesn’t happen frequently.

“You always refer to him in past tense.”

“He passed away.” Ten answers, his voice is prudent and he is determined not to purge more tears, “The summer before junior year, he’s got a really bad immune system and he couldn’t get help because you know.” He doesn’t finish his statement, in hopes that he doesn’t have to say the damned words and that Johnny can put one and one together to figure it out himself.

“That’s fucked up, I’m so sorry Ten.” Johnny whispers quietly as he takes Ten’s hands and cups them tightly, “I hope he’s resting in peace.”

“I hope so too.” Ten smiles before he wipes the specks of dust and the possibility of an outburst of crying from his face, “Hey, it’s my last night, you better not make me cry some more.”

“Alright.”

Their conversation is cut short by the subway intercom system stating their arrival.

But it also awakes something that Johnny’s been clawing at and pursuing for for years, empathy.

He's found it in being a part of Ten’s life, in the crevasses of Jaehyun and Taeyong’s relationship and in the midst of being punched in the face by Yuta.

Johnny also discovers that the novice love he’s always ached for is found everywhere around him.

Not just in Ten.

And this time, it doesn’t make him upset, if anything, it allows Johnny have hope.

Hope for his future.

☆

The Happy Buddha ( Or of What Remains of It)

The Happy Buddha is such a cliche name for a Thai restaurant. But the name holds more than half of Ten’s fondest memories of his childhood, so he really can’t bitch about it. Not as the building that homes it is crumbling down and slowly fading, slowly becoming a remnant of his past.

“Here it is.” Ten exclaims with wide arms at the red brick building that he’s called home for the  
past 12 years, something that his friends are vaguely familiar with but the three Korean-American boys he had just gotten to know weren’t.

Admittedly, Ten’s always been quiet about the fact that he lived in Harlem, with what being a student at an Upper West Side art high school with relatively well off kids as peers. He's always insists on doing group projects after school or at cafes, careful not to suggest someone else’s place. This had occurred once and it did not end well, instead resulting in an infinite period of time being bullied by some classist asshole.

He was especially hesitant when Kun entered his life, because not only was he someone he liked, he also happened to be fucking loaded; or as rich as one can be with a criminal justice lawyer for a mother and a reknown plastic surgeon fsther. Ten feels guilty for feeling this way but he can’t deny how relieved he felt when Kun smiled and greeted his mother with vibrant Chinese, causing her to lapse a bit into one of her mother tongues.

This time, he can’t help but feel a bit of that feeling return, he doesn’t care about Taeyong or Jaehyun’s financial statuses but he can’t deny how shitty he’d feel if he heard an insult from either of them, or even Johnny at that. Fuck, what about Johnny?

“The front door is permanently locked, we have to go up through the emergency staircase.” Ten explains, aiming for the three new additions to the group to understand the circumstances as they headed towards it. He steals a glimpse from Johnny, hoping the latter wouldn’t notice, but he was wrong.

“You okay?” Johnny whispers into Ten’s ear causing shivers to run down his spine, “You seemed kind of iffy.” He states this so blatantly that Ten halts before he climbs up the first step upwards.

“I know the place isn’t all that and it probably is shit in comparison the places in East Village and like-”

“What are you talking about?” Johnny laughs, diminishing Ten’s thoughts as stupid and simply having no basis at all, “I love it.” He smiles reassuringly, or as reassuring as he possibly could. It's dark and the only thing that can light up his face were the distant orange street lamps.

“Seriously?” Ten is obviously in a state of disbelief.

“Yeah, it holds so much character and not in a bad way, before you accuse me of shit.” Johnny counters as he places his palm on Ten’s tense shoulder, “And it’s kind of obvious from the wistful look in your eyes that this place encapsulates a lot of your childhood. I’d take pictures here any day of the week.”

“You’re too fucking nice.” Ten murmurs before he sinks his lips onto Johnny’s, kissing him softly as they stand on the staircase of his apartment after all their friends are shuttled inside, “Why do you have to be so good with your words?”

He wishes things could be this perfect all the time.

“Chittaphon!”

Alas, his mother.

☆

Ten feels his cheeks aflame as he pulls apart from Johnny, behind him is no one but his mother. He waves meekly at her as she looks Johnny up and down repeatedly. Despite her folded arms, she seems amused.

“So you’re the reason why Ten has been out all day.”

All the tension that had been hanging like stalagmites in the air crumbled at once as Mrs. Li makes her way down to take a good look at Johnny, his messy brown hair and his characteristic smug smile. And although Johnny towers her by at least ten inches, he finds that Ten's mother is more intimidating him than he’d like to admit. She's clad in a vibrant mandarin orange and blue jeans, her wavy hair is tied up in a messy bun.

Despite the flow of ascertainty that Johnny senses from her, he quickly decides that she's a rather comforting figure. With what her reaction to seeing her son lock lips with another boy, Johnny feels bolstered with warmth as he sees her eyes. Johnny bows to her, the Korean mannerisms his parents had drilled into him evident now more than ever. This seems to please Mrs. Li as she lends a hand to him and invites him inside their house.

The Lis' apartment is dreary to say the very least. Their entire lives are packed up into brown boxes labelled in a mismatch of tidy Thai and Chinese scrawling. Said boxes are piled up onto one corner of the small space that Johnny concludes to be the living room. Peeling tacky yellow wallpaper decorates the walls of the congregational space, dust bunnies crowding together in corners.

Despite all this Johnny notices the holes in the wall, presumably effects of nails punched in to display portraits and frames. It's not hard for him to conclude that the Lis were also sentimental people like his family.

“Why are the boxes still here?” Ten questions his mother in Thai, he’s crouched near one of the boxes, he examines the label closely before he carefully opens it and pulls out a frame. Johnny can't tell what the picture displays as he feels himself be dragged into the kitchen as Mrs. Li insists he have some tea ("It is too cold outside!")

“Didn’t the ICE people say they were going to seize them in the afternoon?” He questions, this time in English, allowing Johnny to understand context of their conversation.

“The lawyer Wumei introduce to us.” His mother answers, it doesn't take Johnny much time to note that her English is stiff, just like his own mother's had been when he was younger, “He ask the judge to make the conditions nicer since you not staying.” She doesn’t say it softly nor does her words drip with empathy, she says it honestly and frankly Johnny is starting to see where Ten gets his nature from.

“Oh, that’s good then.” Ten nods as he carefully removes the picture from its frame, he cradles the aged piece of paper as he folds it up into squares and subsequently stuffs it in his back pocket. “Are we going to bring them back with us later?” He asks as he stands up and takes a few steps to adjudicate the sight of the kitchen, his mother pouring hot tea into a cup before handing it to Johnny.

“Don’t be stupid Chittaphon, Lisa will send the things we need over when we arrive, and the rest we sell.” She shakes her head with much dispair as she mentions her former employee, “I go for now, your sister in her room, don’t drink and please shower.” Mrs. Li says as she removes a scarf from the barren rack that stood guard near the entrance to the apartment.

The scarf is a disturbing color of neon green that Ten wishes he had never bought out of irony from a Goodwill. This is mainly due to the fact that it has now become a staple in his mother’s winter wear. Ten sighs as he realizes she'll never need to wear it again as he sees her wrap it around her neck for the last time. His mother she calls for Johnny. The taller boy takes a few strides to her and leans down to her eye level, she whispers a few things to his ears and pecks his cheek before leaving, causing the Korean-American boy’s jaw to fall to the ground.

“Well that’s my mom to you, that’s how she says she approves you.” Ten smirks brightly as he drags Johnny upstairs to the rooftop where everyone else was situated, the taller boy dumbfounded as he clutches his cheek with a naive expression on his face.“What’d she say?”

“Thanks for taking care of Ten.” Johnny responds complacently causing the Thai boy to roll his eyes in disbelief, “Seriously!”

“That’s actually sweet for my mom.” Ten responds after a bit, “You should hear what she said about Yuta when he got his first piercing when we got into highschool.” He struggles to open the door to the rooftop area.

The place really was available for use for complex residents, but between school and work, no one had time to actually spend time there. No one but Ten and his friends that is, because when you get a free place to relax at, you take it.

“What’d she say?” Johnny asks as he tries to help open the steel doors, before Ten shoves him to the side to open it himself, “Ouch, that actually hurt.” He feigns pain as he throws a hand to his forehead dramatically.

“Can it Suh, oh my god.” Ten laughs as he helps his boyfriend up (A strange thought really.) before successfully managing to pry the doors open, allowing an influx of fresh air; or as fresh as air can be in a city filled with pollution like New York. “She basically told me to better not get any. But you know, being the little shit that I am, I proceeded to get more than he did.”

“How many do you have?” Johnny asks as he approaches the rest of their friends, they're all scattered around the rooftop area, some on the steel balcony (If you could call it that) admiring the blinking lights of the city and some of them are situated on the dilapidated sofa that Ten chose to leave behind as his contribution to the building and the community he’s found here.

“Ten.”

Johnny thinks he’s found his new favorite number.

☆

**Apologies are Exchanged**

“Did you guys order yet?”

“Yeah, uhh considering their presence and the build of two of them, I got 4 pizzas.” Doyoung responds as he looks at Jaehyun and Johnny knowingly, this earns a shove from the latter.

One one hand, Johnny is glad that Doyoung isn’t infuriated by him anymore. Maybe, it's the fact that he won't be totally fucked tomorrow morning at church but, Johnny feels slightly better now.

“That should be good.” Ten nods as he lets go of Johnny’s grasp and walks over to his best friend, they link arms; Well it's more like Ten forcing Doyoung to coerce in a platonic hug, you get it.

The atmosphere is sullen, the wind subtle but present, it doesn’t seem to want to make itself known. Johnny heads to the railing to find Jaehyun and Taeyong talking with one another, bright smiles plastered on their faces, so he can only hope they’ve sorted out whatever conflict they had with one another.

He shoves his hands inside his pocket as he finds a spot in the large gap between the two of them.

“So, how was your day Suh?” Jaehyun asks, his voice tinted with a slight bout of sarcasm that Johnny thinks he deserves.

“Rollercoaster-esque.” Johnny responds as he stretches his arms, allowing the breeze to swallow him whole. It's more than just chilly but he loves weather like this, especially at night. He's blown away at the unsuspecting yet incandescent scenery from Ten’s rooftop, 10 floors above the ground. (The climb up the stairs was totally worth despite all the sweat he has to shed in December)

“Was it scarier than the one we rode when we were 13? I’m still convinced you shit yourself.” Taeyong chimes in, his eyes feigning innocence. 

“Possibly?” Johnny responds rhetorically before he chooses to finally confront his closest friends, “I’m sorry for dragging you both into this whole thing, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Autumn.”

There was an awful lot of silence for such an eventful day.

“It’s fine.” Jaehyun sighs as he wraps an arm around Johnny’s shoulders, “Seriously. It’s just fucking weird that you’re actually apologizing for something.”

“I say sorry all the time!” Johnny argues as he raises his voice slightly causing the two other boys to laugh at the distinct change in behaviour.

“You say sorry a lot for stupid shit that you don’t have to be sorry for.” Taeyong retorts as he ruffles Johnny’s already distressed head of hair, “But you never apologize for real shit.” He adds with a sneer on his face.

And when Johnny looks to Jaehyun for some back up, he responds with a shrug of agreement with the shorter male. Johnny finds it a bit odd to have four people from different spectrums of his life, old and new, in the same space intertwining with one another. But on the other hand, there's nothing daunting about it, it's nothing like how he pictured it in his mind. 

For one, he finds it entertaining to see Doyoung vibrant and actually displaying active emotion, instead of the dull and picture-perfect image he always poised himself to be at church events.

The final melody of a Conan Gray song from downstairs plays and leaves them in silence, but Johnny has other inquiries in mind. And as the song from downstairs ends, the sound of crickets fill the space between the levels of the building.

“Hey, so why’s Ten’s sister not here? Or like out with her friends?” 

“Dude, he didn’t tell you?” Jaehyun furrows his eyebrow in surprise.

“What?”

“His sister is the reason they’re getting deported.” Taeyong answers for Jaehyun’s sake, Johnny feels the air tense around him after his proclamation. Johnny feels a shiver down his spine as he takes in Taeyong's words, “Doyoung told me, earlier at the lobby. That’s why they’ve got shit between them.”

“Didn’t Kun add that they already had pre-existing beef between them though?” Jaehyun questions Taeyong pensively as he avoids his gaze.

“I think they didn’t like each other to begin with, something to do with their dad or something.” Jaehyun adds as he scratches his head, and understandably so at that. The day's been immensely dazey that the details seem to blend to one another.

“That’s insane.” Johnny whistles, he's stunned by the revelation but upon further reflection of his day sense, he begins to connect the dots, why else would Ten be so against his family otherwise?

“So uhh, what’s going on between the two of you?” Johnny pops the bubble in an attempt to waft the stellar ineptitude in the atmosphere.

“Well, Tyong?” Jaehyun slides the question to the male opposite to him, his eyes as wide as saucers and his cheeks aflush as he attempts to bury his head in his arms.

"We decided to give us a go.” Taeyong hums, his voice slightly wavering. He gazes at Jaehyun with some trepidation only to be shot back a look of comfort and reassurance.

“You’re not straight?” Johnny quirks his eyebrow at his best friend, his mouth agape at the revelation. When Jaehyun begins to slowly nod, Johnny throws his arms to the two of them and hugs them tightly. He supposes it's the least he can do, not that he's ever had experience in being apart of other people's coming out journey.

"Well I guess I'm not." Jaehyun sighs, lips pointing upwards as he lets go from Johnny’s impromptu hug, “I mean I’ve always found a lot of guys hot, I just never really thought about it that much?” He responds naively, his words impy and airy but Johnny knows that that’s just Jaehyun.

And as he finishes listening to Jaehyun’s never-ending speech about his favorite male characters who've caught his eye in movies, he taps Taeyong’s shoulder to give notice to the male that he's exiting the conversation. 

Johnny walks over to Doyoung and Yuta both of them are perched on the sofa, the former with a cigarette clamped between his red lips.

“Hey, Doyoung can we talk?”

“Yeah sure, sit down.” The boy in question responds as he pats the empty space between him and Yuta.

Johnny can’t help but feel partially intimidated by Yuta’s presence, he can’t exactly place a finger on it. Perhaps it's the cigarette dangling from his lips, perhaps it's the mere energy that Yuta exudes, for some reason Johnny can’t figure it out.

Yuta's the sort of person that his parents warned him not to befriend, someone not to be. (Eg; Piercings galore, dyed hair, premature chainsmoker) In a way, Johnny doubts he'll be all that surprised to discover a hyper realistic dragon tattoo on Yuta’s back. But what does surprise him comes in the form of two words that Yuta utters.

“I’m sorry.”

There's been far too many apologies for a night of farewells.

☆

**Stuck in Closets (Wrapped In a Blanket of Lies)**

Johnny is stunned by Yuta's words. He remains silent, unsure whether or not to accept the seemingly forced apology. Doyoung, on the other hand, looks like he's just about to burst into laughter at any second. Johnny is just confused.

“That’s just how Yuta says sorry.” Doyoung states plainly, his mouth pops as he removes the plastic lollipop stick from his mouth, he chucks it in a trashcan behind them without much thought. Doyoung's tedious and clever that way. He jiggles a bag of candy in Johnny’s direction, “Take one.”

“Thanks.” The tall male looks inside the bag and picks out a cola sucker, he unwraps it before plopping it in his mouth. "And it’s fine, I would’ve punched me too.”

Yuta smirks from his position, it’s faint but it’s there, in the thin lines that make up his lips. “I just get protective sometimes, I didn’t mean it.” His words are gentler this time, they seem more sincere and wholehearted. Johnny takes it, acknowledging the fact that he fucked up and that the slight prickling in his cheek was something he deserved.

“I get it.”

“So uh, I hope you don’t tell my mom about this.” Doyoung interjects the conversation (Was it really a conversation though?) between Yuta and Johnny. His head nodding to the cigarette that he suspends from his nimble fingers, vapor trailing in sight.

“Oh yeah, sure.” Johnny nods as he removes the sweet from his mouth and twists it around with his palm, heedfully doing so to prevent the sticky bits from contacting his hands. “And I hope you won’t tell mine about how I’m not straight.” He adds, he outreaches his right pinky to the fellow Korean-American boy like a young child, hoping that their secrets remain.

Yuta is amused at the sight of his best friend encircling his pinky with the tall boy beside him. He finds it comical almost, to see these two boys living secret lives behind the superficial ones others seemed to believe they lead. He thinks about irony as he stubs his cig's butt on the sofa's left arm, dilapidated and torn apart to a criminal degree before tossing it to oblivion.

“And this is why you establish to your parents that you're a fucking loser.” Yuta waves his hand to dismiss their decisions, “That way, they don’t set any expectations for you.” Johnny isn’t sure whether it’s the nicotine talking or the boy himself, but he can't deny truth in Yuta's words.

“You’re lucky your parents are hippies.” Doyoung shakes his head ignoring Yuta’s statement, he  
knows that he's destined for a lifetime of hiding behind closet doors and marrying a girl that he knows he won't love. “My parents are Christian accountants for fuck’s sake, what do you want me to tell them? 'Hey! I’m asexual and I don’t believe in God.' Yeah right.”

He says all this in a very satirical and sarcastic tone that Johnny can't help but snicker boorishly. So maybe Doyoung isn't all that bad, sure he might be a bit too strict and strung-together whenever in the presence of an adult; as would most teenagers he knew. Yuta being a prominent example of such.

“What about you Johnny? Will you ever cometh out of thy closet?” Yuta questions, his tone mystical mimicking the excruciating manner of speech in the Lord of the Rings movies. It's so terribly accurate, Johnny thinks he might actually be listening to Gollum himself.

“Considering it, but I think if I tell my dad that I’m declining med school, tell him I’m bisexual and make him acknowledge the fact that I’ve got a boyfriend. I’m 99% sure, I’ll end up on the street and disowned.” Johnny answers, his words are brusque but they state the reality of the future he might live in. “So no, I’ll take it one step at a time.”

Yuta can’t express it but something about Johnny's being is just simply enchanting and fictional. He’s the sort of person that he deems fit to be the main character of an underrated coming-of-age novel. The type that deserves to be a New York Times bestseller but instead abandoned and forgotten, a manuscript never published. Johnny's the right sort of obscure but realistic person that'd be perfect to pen a whole story based on. 

“You’re really not going to med school.” Doyoung exhales a puff of smoke, he alternates between the cigarette and the lollipop in an effort to avoid ashy breath. “That’s something.”

“I guess. I mean I never really wanted to.” Johnny shrugs, he’s tempted to ask for one but he’s managed to go through high school without exhaling tobacco smoke himself and he’s keen on keeping things that way. “I just never really considered telling my parents that I didn’t. I owe a lot to them.”

“You do know that you can pay them back by being happy and being a good person?”

Johnny considers wacking Yuta for a moment. It's the sort of bullshit the counselors at his school would say to the ‘troubled’ kids whenever he passed by their offices on the way back from classes. But there's a sprout of accuracy and authenticity in Yuta’s words. Despite this Johnny chooses to ignore his words and scoffs softly, before he bites into the remaining bits of the caramelized candy in his mouth.

“Well, I’m not even sure whether or not I'm even a good person now.” He shrugs as he follows in suit of Yuta and pops the stick into the trash can behind them, he fails and walks back to fetch it from the ground to toss it directly in much to Yuta's dismay.

“You are, if you weren’t, you wouldn’t have run out to look for Ten.” Doyoung sneers as he nods to Sicheng and Ten’s direction, they were joking around, a luminescent beam drawn across the former’s lips. “You’re a good person Johnny.”

These words stick with Johnny for a damn long time, even after he loses touch with Doyoung.

Because Johnny’s learned that words stay.

☆

**Pepperoni Pizza & Overpriced Pop**

The food arrives not long after Johnny, Doyoung and Yuta’s banter on sexuality and modern stereotypes; something that they’ve found that they’re quite passionate about in the most cliche of ways. Johnny’s glad that he’s found friends, real ones at that, that didn’t come from church or school. His eyes veer to Ten as they pick up greasy slices of pizza from the Italian place a few blocks away.

Sicheng had lost the mini rock-paper-scissors tournament that they held to determine who was to run down the 10 flights of stairs to fetch the delivery and pay. He's now crouched on the corner of the rooftop panting like a mad man, cursing in indiscernible English and Chinese. Ten walks over to him with a plastic cup of Coca Cola, the latter’s favorite beverage.

“Hey, thanks for picking it up.” Ten mutters as he hands the soda to his best friend, “Here’s some soda, or as Kun constantly calls it, ‘pop’. Seriously, who the fuck uses pop?” He sways his head in bemusement.

“British bitches like him do.”

Ten chuckles loudly before calling out the Chinese male, “You should drink the damn soda, it’s pricey as fuck so you better drink it.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Sicheng answers, not missing a beat as he stands up and stretches his back slowly, “I can’t believe I get tired so fast nowadays, for fuck's sake I take ballet.” He extends his leg onto the railing as if it's a barre to practice his warmups.

“You don’t have to rub in the fact that you’re apart of the New York Ballet company, it’s getting old.” Ten rolls his eyes jokingly.

Ten and Sicheng have known each other for quite some time; in fact he was the person to introduce him to Yuta, the latter’s boyfriend of 2 years. Their friendship's built on nothing but their common passion to dance, may it be ballet or hip hop or jazz. The two first met at dance club during freshman year, which they eventually dumped in favor of the studio in Harlem that miraculously offered near-to-nothing courses on odd days of the week. 

Ten used to think that Sicheng was this brooding figure, seldomly opening his mouth to speak but to the teacher and a handful of people he had respect for. But as time crawls forward, he learns many things about him, like the fact that he had moved to Manhattan, New York, USA, at the age of 12 with his mother from Zhejiang, China, to further his dance career. Ten slowly begins to become well versed in the world of Dong Sicheng as he discovers his little quirks and habits that the Chinese boy worked hard to prevent himself from divulging with other people.

Ten grows to find that Sicheng is a nice person and definitely not someone who deserves the racist taunts from their peers at school, not that anyone did really. He learns that that the boy in question was someone more than his slightly accented English, that he's someone more beyond his capabilities on stage, that he's someone that deserves friendship.

So Ten brings him into his life, he introduces him to Yuta and Doyoung, both of whom were still getting to know each other and in constant cat-fights concerning the smallest and trivial matters. He acquaints Sicheng with his mother, who takes him in lovingly with wide arms and speaks to him in Chinese despite his warnings not to. Ten used to get jealous of all the gleaming attention that the Chinese boy attracted and rexeived from his surroundings, but as he grows older, he grows akin to the seams and the imperfections of Dong Sicheng.

He realizes that he’s not the only one with issues that day when Sicheng got temporarily discharged from his dance company. Ten comforts someone for the first time as Sicheng blubbers in obscure Mandarin during a random lunch period sometime in October of junior year. He wipes the boy’s tears with his sleeve as he listens to his concerns, asking him to slow down at times when he doesn’t understand his words all too well.

In thise moments, not only does he thank his mother for speaking their other native tongue at home, he also learns that sometimes shit happens to people who don't deserve it.

“Sicheng.”

Ten knowingly disrupts the complacent numbness in the air, he’s nibbling on the crust of his third slice of pizza, it’s obnoxiously dry and he aches for more Marinara sauce, but he acknowledges his laziness to head back to the battered coffee table that acts as a makeshift centerpiece to the rooftop to grab the silicone container that houses his favorite dip.

“What?” Sicheng responds, his voice isn’t snappy and instead he sounds nearly whimsical and almost pensive, “You okay?” He adds a few seconds later when Ten doesn’t continue his inquiry. He looks at his best friend with an imperceptible worried expression.

“I’m fine, I just wanted to say thanks.”

“Thanks for what? I think you should tell Kun that if anything.” Sicheng muses, he’s addled and at loss for what to say, it's such an abrupt announcement and he can't really piece together the words that he wants to say to Ten.

“I will, it’s just. I know you don’t really say much in front of strangers, and even with us at times, so I’ll just say it now.” Ten begins, he has a curious look in his eyes, a glimmer of mischief one might say, “I expect a little pizazz in your reaction so don’t leave me hanging with an ‘Ok hoe’. God, I regret teaching you some slang.” He mutters the last bit on purpose to bring about a faint gleam from Sicheng.

“Proceed, hoe.”

“Well, I just want to say thanks for listening to my shit, sometimes the rest, they have too much to say. I fucking love them but they can be so opinionated at times.”

“I’m opinionated, I just don’t say it in front of you guys. “ Sicheng smirks in response, before adding a ‘LOL’ to ensure that Ten understands his perspective.

“Let me talk for a moment!” Ten wails, he seems tired but determined all the samw to get his sentiments across, “You taught me that you know, I’m not the only person with problems.”

“Isn’t that a no-brainer though?” Sicheng counters, armed with his signature cynicism and blinding smile.

“Anyways, that time where you, like, cried at lunch when your coach put you on ‘hiatus’, yeah that was a real turning point.”

Sicheng channels an expression that shows uncertainty and Ten grips the Chinese male’s shoulders before he attempts to disintegrate their ambiguity, “For real.”

Whoever said comfortable silence was overrated (Harry Styles? Ten isn’t sure, all the songs and artists he’s listened to in the past few months had long ago began to blend together to form this melancholic orchestra of teen heartbreak anthems) was certainly wrong. And so were the romance novels, because what Ten was feeling at that moment was just that. 

He appreciates the silence he shares with Sicheng, the person who made him realize that, yes, it is possible to love and appreciate people even in the most platonic of ways.

And although Sicheng isn’t his first best friend, or certainly his last, he’s taught him that friendship matters, and not in the way they teach it in My Little Pony.

Friendship can be blistering and leave both ends hurt, but it can also nurture someone to grow into someone they initially could only dream of being.

At least that's how Ten feels when he’s with his small circle of friends because that’s where he finds solace.

But as time continues to try and prove him wrong, he discovers he can also find it in the small clefts and fissures of the world.

Afterall, that’s how he's found his way to where he is now.

☆

**Confrontations & Extended Amendments**

Tonight is one that Ten is confident will remain in the depths of his memory for a damn long time. And althought it isn't what he anticipated his last one in Harlem to be but it isn't something that he thinks he’ll ever regret. The night is shared between old and new friends over slices of pepperoni pizza and his past life. They recount memories of high school and their plans looming over the future. 

He learns that Jaehyun is going to UCLA on a basketball scholarship and that Taeyong is planning to head to South Korea to enroll in a dance crew and to get in touch with his roots.They're both headed on different paths of life, but they seem pretty sure with one another. 

Ten admires their confidence and steals a brief peek at Johnny’s expression, the slightly older boy has a subtle grin as he swirls his cup of Fanta, he seems calm. Ten can’t help but stare at him as he takes a swig of the sugary beverage, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. Johnny perceives this and winks at him cheesily causing Ten to roll his eyes.

He looks at his phone, abandoned all day and checks that it’s nearing 9, they have to leave by 10 and he hasn't even showered yet. Ten bites his lip, he doesn't want things to end this way but he has no other option, he had chosen his path and there is no turning back. Instead, he picks up a piece of the cheesy pizza and wraps it with some tissue paper. He mouths at Kun that he’ll be back in 15 minutes and heads to the stairway. It’s gloomy and the stair handles are grimy, but Ten manages to reach their floor with much ease. There aren’t that many perks of living in an intricate complex like this one but he supposes that being able to navigate his way in the dark was one.

Their only toilet is at the far end of the measly path that would be considered a hallway in most homes, he places the slice in the front of his sister’s door before he knocks it twice. Ten enters his room and he can’t help but feel melancholic and gloomy, it’s barren and has no personality left. As he fetches the neat stack of clothes on the edge of his bed, he tries not to think about how empty the room is making him feel. 

The shower is brass cold but Ten’s used to it, money’s always been tight and heating water to bathe in costs too much. It isn’t much of a sacrifice and it always wakes him up in the morning and soothes him at night. It’s a bit strange for him to think that he’ll probably even miss the bathroom. Ten knows that he’ll think about the sink’s constant creaking on lonely nights when he's long gone.

The outfit his mother had chose for him isn’t absolutely awful despite the fact that it isn't something that he would personally choose himself. Nonetheless, Ten slips into the firm pair of dark jeans and pulls on the army green sweater over his head. He curses to himself as he realizes that he's packed away his only brush, he momentarily considers borrowing his sister’s and flinches. Ie it really that worthed? They haven't exchanged words for what seems like the past eternity. Ten feels himself crumple as he tries to remember a time when May didn't sound intoxicated or infuriated.

In spite of this, Ten chooses to do so but before he can place his knuckles on the wood, the door opens by itself. His sister stands opposite to him, her bangs a frizzled mess but she doesn’t seem to mind.

“Can I borrow your comb?”

“Sure, it’s in my bag.” Her voice is soft and meek as she widens the door and allows her brother inside her room, allowing Ten to gasp at the fact that it’s been more than a year since he last entered her room. Last time he had, he remembers that they were decorated with a plethora of miscellaneous rainbow colored boy band posters. It’s now as desolate as his is.

Ten feels partial discomfort as he notices that she probably got over her Kpop phase and got into something else that he's unaware of. May is like that, she can’t like anything more than a year before she moves on to the next. He feels like he’s invading his sister’s privacy as he blindly dives into her backpack, rummaging for something that could untangle his hair.

Ten can tell that her eyes are piercing at his back from her position on her bed, one hand skimming through a book senselessly. It's an anomaly to see her doing something aside from scrolling through social media, but then he remembers that their mother took her phone and sold it when things were divulged. He finally identifies something that 's shaped similarly to a comb and pulls it out, careful not to allow it to tangle with a pair of earphones that he is uncertain why it was even packed in the first place.

As Ten leans his hand on the door to indicate his exit, his sister speaks up, it's the first time she's initiated a conversation with him in a long time.

“I’m sorry. Mama told me that you said no even though the lawyer overturned your removal.”

Ten wants to scoff and push the door open and exit but something tugs at his heart, so he turns around to face his sister. To his surprise, her eyes are welling and her lips are pursed shut. Initially speaking, Ten can't help but compare her now and the person that she was, the contrast being more conclusive than ever. However, Ten can’t help but feel himself break down at the sight of his sister so vulnerable and more assailable than he’s ever seen her. It’s excruciating and nearly heart-breaking to see her so bare and liable during times like this. So Ten does what he never expects himself to do.

"Everything's going to be okay."

He approaches her and hugs her, it’s nearly bone crushing but she doesn’t seem to mind. Instead, May leans her head onto Ten’s shoulder, his sweater is soaked in salty tears but he doesn’t mind because he now knows that his sister is aware that he’s forgiven her

☆

**A Stranger In His World**

Unravelling from the hug, Ten forgets all about the comb and lets his hair remain dishevelled. Instead he walks into his room to stuff his used clothes and soap inside his suitcase. It’s patchy and falling apart but it does the job for something that had only cost $5 and came from some knock off shop. 

Ten looks up at the ceiling of his room, it's evident whoever did the decorating used budget paint. Mainly because whenever the tables were shook ever so slightly crumbly flakes of dried chemicals fell to his face. Ten used to hate it, he used to hate how small and claustrophobic his room made him feel. He didn’t like the tacky yellow paint that blinded him from the wall, he had been especially disgusted by the crevasses on the floor.

But as the years went by, he’s learned to appreciate its quirks as he began to renovate it into something he felt secure in. His hands graze upon the north wall, the one where his bed was positioned against, he feels the remnants of tape that he used to hang up clippings from his favorite fashion magazines and the singular ancient Shawn Mendes poster. (That his sister bought and gifted graciously to him on his 16th birthday and when they were still on speaking terms.)

It’s insane to see the cheap (and immensely itchy) fur carpeting that he installed one August evening with Yuta to be gone and removed, leaving behind clumps of hairy substances on the floor; Ten wishes good luck to future tenants to attempt to clean them up. 

The south wall of his room used to be home to a shelving unit that Ten had spent months saving up for to purchase from IKEA. He used to display his meager collection of art and design books as well as manga novels that he’s collected over a lifetime. Now they’re all now in a random Goodwill in Chinatown that he's loved visiting all his life. It’s not hard to conclude that tearing apart his room had been a pretty symbolic gesture of ripping apart his life.

Ten hugs himself in an attempt to prevent himself from shedding more tears, enough had been shed today, and their final farewells hadn’t been said yet. He never would've predicted that he would miss his closet sized room yet here he is. Memories wer3 made here and he supposes that they’ll stay there long after they leave, entrapped in the walls and between layers of plaster. His mother used to tell him that he used to compare his room with the one he had in Thailand from his youth, he used to bitch about how small it was and how it didn’t allow him access with the outdoors.

Ten remembers his mom constantly going on and on about it throughout junior year when he was in the midst of mourning and when he was constantly locked up inside his room. It wasn’t the best thing she could've said despite her intentions but the dissimilarity between his attitude then and now was something that has crossed his mind more than many times during the process of making his room bare again.

Ten’s thoughts are disrupted as someone knocks on the entrance of his room, he’s not keen on opening it but he knows that refusing anyone from entering will just lead to more disposable arguments. So he croaks out a hasty ‘come in’ before he buries his head in his hand, aching desperately for an hour of sleep.

“It’s me.” The voice says quietly as they pry open the door, it’s quite conspicuous that it’s Johnny, judging from the 6 foot something figure and his distinct manner of speech, tinged with that slight Chicago accent that Ten can’t explain how he could decipher. His height challenges the door’s and the Thai male can’t help but snicker at the sight of his boyfriend nearly hitting his head on the wooden frame.

“I know.” Ten beams as he pats the space beside him, he wipes his face with his sleeve to hide the few tears that managed to slip out. “How’d you find your way here?” He asks, in an attempt to distract the taller one from his emotions despite the fact that it was quite evident that he was an emotional mess.

“Instinct.” Johnny says in a fake brooding manner that causes Ten to smack his shoulder jokingly, “Kun told me, his directions were very specific.” He adds this in a way that makes Ten aware that he was possibly jealous of the fact. These little things made Ten enjoy Johnny's presence so much, these are the things he's eager to learn about him. And a part of him wonders if these things will translate as well through phone calls.

“God, fix your mind.” Ten grumbles as he buries himself in Johnny’s embrace, it’s pleasant and consolatory. He’s glad that Johnny knows what he means, Ten’s a sucker for people vying for his attention.

“You fixed me.” His words are quiet, Johnny takes Ten’s palm onto his own as his eyes travel across the room that Ten will soon bade farewell to. It’s as clear as day that Johnny means his words, it’s certain from the way he utters the words and the way he caresses Ten’s hands. Sighs of relief escape the smaller male’s mouth as he finds that Johnny can appreciate its flaws as his eyes glow with curiosity and attentiveness.

“No I didn’t.”

“I-”

“We mended each other.” Ten responds, his eyes are glimmering like the stars in the sky that Johnny will gladly pluck for him.

But they can only hope that lust lasts.

☆

**Farewell New York**

Time is cruel and it never sheds mercy, forcing the two of them to exit Ten’s room solemnly. Johnny drags Ten's singular suitcase, inside is everything that will remind him of New York. The clock that’s hung in the kitchen wall remains clicking, ticking sharply as if it was mocking them both. The other boys have returned downstairs after having disposed of all their rubbish, their faces are absinthal and they’re all clearly burned out.

Ten’s mother arrives back at home a few minutes to ten, she’s got a bittersweet smile on her lips. A simultaneous breath of relief floods the whole room as Mrs. Li begins to dial the taxi company on her mobile phone. The line doesn’t ring and for a moment they all think that if it doesn’t pick up that they get to stay. But that’s not the case because an operator takes the call after a minute of the copyright free music echoing the room.

There’s this rigid silence that rings through the otherwise empty apartment complex; hell it's a Saturday night and people are out celebrating whatever people usually do. It’s a demeaning contrast but that’s just how things work. In a bid to ring out the cloddish atmosphere in the room, Mrs. Li tries to pick up a measly conversation with the boys, sure there's some generational gaps and slight mistranslations but they manage. Ten’s amused and so are the rest.

Suddenly in the midst of his mother talking about her last mahjong game with her friends earlier, a car honk jerks them back to reality. She sighs as she proceeds to hug every single one of the boys, some lengthier than others depending on how long she's known them. Ten’s not deaf, she hears her thank all of them for taking care of him and feel his ears burn up. He sees that Doyoung and Sicheng are holding back their tears as they sigh into her shoulders. Ten knows it’s going to be his turn next to bid them farewell but he doesn’t know if he’s ready.

He’s known weeks prior that he won’t be able to receive the airport adieux just like in the movies he loves so much. This is mainly due to an abundance reasonings may it be Doyoung’s insanely early curfew or the fact that Yuta’s got soccer practice at 5 in the morning. In a sense, it’s a reminder that the world continues on even if you’re swept off your feet. And even Ten can’t argue that as he sinks into a group hug with his friends, (This is pre-decided too, courtesy of a very finicky Qian Kun) he doesn’t mind that Taeyong and Jaehyun join in. Over the span of the few hours they spent together, he’s grown to become akin to them.

It’s abysmal for Ten to think that this might be the last time he’ll ever see Doyoung’s bunny-esque smile, listen to Yuta’s signature scoff and Sicheng’s golden laughter or even be tormented by Kun’s never ending nagging. These are all things that he’s taken for granted, so he soaks it in, Ten knows that he can't afford to bask in it but he takes what he gets. He knows he’ll miss his friends and that they will too, but things have to change. The world moves on and so will they.

And that’s when he realizes, did this mark his parting with Johnny too?

He looks at the taller boy and before he can open his mouth to pop the bubble, he receives a very assertive answer, one that he’s been praying for all day.

“I’ll go with you.”

For a moment Ten thinks that Johnny will go with him to Bangkok, and even the male in question notices this, but before anyone could pierce the very proclaimed awkwardness, he adds to his statement.

“To the airport I mean.” Johnny shakes his head as he notices the piercing gazes that he's receiving, “I’m already out late, it’s fine, a few more hours won’t hurt plus Jaehyun told my parents that I’m okay.” He continues on, thankfully his blabber defeats the somber mood as the rest burst into chuckles.

As everyone launders out of the miniature apartment and as the light flickers off for the final time, everyone begins to feel quite desolate. This includes May who begrudgingly stomped out of her room carrying a suitcase and her pink faux Jansport backpack. Ten feels bad for her, if things didn’t end this way, she would’ve had a clique of friends accompanying her too. But he quickly realizes the irony of his words because they wouldn't even be here if not for them. However, he decides not to bring up to her, now and for the rest of his life.

There are two cabs, Ten sends a silent thank you to his mother who probably knew that he was going to ask one of his friends to accompany him. He reaches in the second one as he whispers goodbye to his friends for the last time, ingraining the sight of them in his memory as Johnny stuffs his clandestine black suitcase into the trunk with the assistance of the hasty driver. He grips Yuta’s hand for the final time and lets go, their palms are sweaty despite the winter weather. He sees a single bead trickle down Yuta's cheek. It’s the first time Ten’s seen him cry in the span of their friendship.

As the car speeds past their lonesome section of Harlem, the window displays the neon lights and vibrant air of the wealthier and better off parts of the district. Johnny notices that Ten is choking up and intertwines their fingers, hoping that it’ll soothe him somehow. It partially works but what Ten needs is rambling, he needs words to distract the harsh reality that flashed in such a hurry. So he taps at Johnny’s wrist as an indication for him to start talking about something, anything.

“So, did you mean it earlier?”

“Mean what?” Ten is on defence mode for some reason but Johnny doesn’t try to fight it, instead he pushes through with their conversation.

“When you said we mend each other.”

Ten’s silent, he’s no longer fastidious nor his heart pounding on his chest anymore. Instead he thinks about it, it really was a spur of the moment sort of decision. But when things are happening all around you so turbulently, it’s like you’re drunk or hungover, you’re eager to tell the truth about how things are. It takes a moment for Ten to muster an answer that isn’t dripping with sarcasm which admittedly causes Johnny to fluster a bit. But when he does, Ten’s more certain than he’s ever been with anything.

“I did.”

“I was just- You know-”

“I know Johnny, in the past few months I’ve been so intent on not dating anyone, not hooking up with anyone not giving myself up for anyone because I’m so scared about catching feelings.” Ten begins, his words are bona fide and it’s quite prudent that he’s speaking from his heart, “And that’s how I've been feeling for so long until I saw you at Battery earlier.”

Ten is young and although he promises that he’ll start to look at himself in the mirror, acknowledging the reflection of himself with the highest of regards, he can’t lie and say that it’s fucking easy. Because it isn’t, he’s still anxious and aghast about what’s out there. And frankly he’s still frightened about what’s going to happen next. Their chance meeting at Battery Park seems like it had occurred aeons ago, before all the bullshit and crap came bursting through the doors. 

“But the moment we started talking, just sitting there with your stupid hot packs, I gave in.” Ten continues, he feels like his heart a-flutter instead, he’s no longer swallowing sand but he feels butterflies pit-a-patting inside, “The way you carried yourself with such chastening confidence, the way you speak in that poetic way of yours, it made me realize that I’m indeed, fucked.”

“I knew I was going to love you.”

Ten’s not quite sure if it’s external noise or whether their driver sincerely sighed at his words, but he gleams, flashing his million dollar smile to Johnny, and Johnny only. He’s reached the point where he’s began to let his wings spread out, he doesn’t want to give in to his insecurities anymore. He’s not sure whether Johnny’s flabbergasted, astonished or appalled by his sudden melodrama so he squeezes the boy’s fingers in act of confusion before adding quickly.

“Now it’s your turn to quote some philosophical thing or something from an obscure movie I’ve never watched.”

Johnny laughs because in the span of less than a day, he is no longer worried that Ten won’t get to know him. Because the Thai boy truly has, somehow he’s encapsulated the essences of Johnny Suh and he hopes that even after their love fades that he’ll keep it no matter how far apart they are metaphorically and literally speaking. Johnny used to think that mutual understanding takes years to form, but he’s just proven himself wrong because it can be found in the most obscure of places if you have the right people.

“There’s this Japanese phrase, it’s called ‘Koi no Yokan’. Sorry Yuta, I probably fucking butchered that.” Johnny prefaces, he’s got this big goofy smirk on his face that Ten can’t seem to wipe off no matter what, not that he wants to. “Have you heard of it?”

Ten shakes his head in response, “Yuta’s Japanese is crappy beyond measure, he won’t be offended, trust me.” He has a smile so stupid that he'd sincerely cringe to death if he saw it in person, but it seems to make Johnny feel warm so he doesn’t object. "But no, I have not."

“It’s basically love at second sight, a premonition that you’ll fall in love with someone.” Johnny explains, he makes wide gestures with his hand as he delves deeper, “I mean there’s no direct translation but that’s the-”

“That’s how I felt.”

“Me too.”

“You really ought to stop cutting my words.” Johnny continues, his words faltering, he’s frightened about his future and that he’s falling in love but he knows that it’s okay, as long as he has Ten, whether he'e right beside him or if he's 8,651 miles away.

“And you really ought to stop answering my questions with more questions.” Ten scrunches up his nose in protest, his forehead meets Johnny’s and things look perfect for a split second.

“We have a lot to improve on.”

“I know, I love you John.”

“I love you too Ten.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't forget to share your thoughts in the comments respectfully and to share some kudos if you enjoyed reading! Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ODETO10) and [Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/user/gymewm6sqkr42wxfdibu8612e?si=pY85msJ-T6m5IpJJ-AO8kw)


	4. The Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know how bothersome it is for writers to link music or playlists with their works but [this playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0SKXHKKXecXvJAkpMKmYfQ?si=kw3U0IH1SbmVEhYGJcHZ6A) was crafted especially by my friend and I.

**Press Reload**

As the plane soars into the sky, Ten can’t help but notice how luminescent New York City is from 35,000 feet above the ground. There are millions of lights of a hundred different colors and shades blinking hastily at him. It looks like an oversized kaleidoscope from afar and now he can think of one good thing about heading back to Bangkok. He’s antsy and fidgety at first as the plane begins to head upwards, he grips May’s hand and in that moment he knows they’ve reconciled in silence. (Out of fear or not, they’ll never know)

As the New York City horizon fades into dust, Ten knows that he’ll always compare every city skyline to it, as he will every boy to Johnny.

It’s hard at first, it’s not easy to adjust back into the slower pace of living in Thailand, he’s unable to speak the language at first, mixing up words and mispronouncing every other syllable. His accent is long gone so he fakes one until it becomes something irreversible. Ten gets a job at an up and coming cafe down the street from the house (Yes, house!) that his mother’s family owns to try and make ends meet.

Ten finishes high school at a public one and barely graduates, but he’s still grateful that he still managed to do so with his scarce knowledge in the local tongue. He goes to a community college and gets a degree in the performing arts, he’s then scouted to attend an acclaimed one far from where his mother and sister lived. He packs his bag and rents a small flat in Phra Nakhon to attend, this time he graduates with honors.

Ten misses his friends yet they manage to hold on to each other over Sicheng’s constant updates in their group chat and Kun's reminders to rest and have meals. But as time passes on, he starts to feel discarded and left out as they discuss their projects together and the tremors that finals week brings forth. Ten knows it’s not their fault and this was bound to happen, so he realizes that the only way to get through this is by slowly but surely starting to let go.

Sometime in junior year of university, when he’s starting to think that perhaps art isn't the most viable option, he receives a phone call from Kun, it’s abrupt but it brings him home to New York for a moment. He tells him that his mother’s just passed away and that she wanted to tell him that he hopes that he’s okay now in Bangkok. Ten cries for the first time in a long time. They try to pick up where they left off but it’s hard, Kun’s become more sophisticated, med school is hard and the nit-picked community that he's been surrounding himself with in Columbia University has changed him.

Ten tries to reach out to Yuta, who’s now playing college soccer in Osaka and Sicheng, who’s in Beijing attending a well-renowned performing arts school. It’s hard to accept the reality that he’s facing, And Ten notices that even Doyoung’s changed, becoming more soft spoken as he’s started to sing professionally (Last he heard Doyoung got an offer from an acclaimed International recording label) and has began to glow in the spotlight. He reacts and wishes Jaehyun and Taeyong happy birthday and Merry Christmas via Instagram when they roll around. But between their own lives and his, Ten isn’t even sure that they’re still together.

It’s gradual but Ten begins to acclimate to his life in Silpakorn University, he makes new friends who understand him and share his common interests. He’s gone out on a few dates but no one makes his heart race like Johnny. Ten knows his reality isn’t perfect, afterally his life in a city so dynamic and electrifying seems so blatantly dull in comparison to his life in New York.

Don’t get him wrong, Ten keeps in touch with Johnny and for years at that. They constantly try to keep each other in their everyday lives as much as possible. And as much as Ten would never admit it he probably gave more of an effort to stay in touch with Johnny than he did with his friends. At first he thinks it’s a selfish and cruel decision but as he grows older he knows that just what first love is.

But they’re strangers at the end of the day, they never truly knew each other like Ten knew his friends or how Johnny knew his. It’s fun at first but it starts to get exhausting, the constant explanations and reminiscing of the past. Ten knows that regular reminders of his old life aren't going to help him acclimate and he figures that it's starting to irritate Johnny too. It’s not immediate but they slowly fall out of love, or whatever one would call what they shared between them.

What used to be daily Skype calls became weekly, monthly and eventually they only contacted each other on holidays and each other’s birthdays. Things get strained as Ten finishes university and is faced with an opportunity to open his own dance studio, something not all fresh graduates are given the chance to. In spite of taking it, the future of his relationship with Johnny dims, it doesn’t seem all too likely now.

Eventually Ten realizes that it’s time to let go. He’s got a lot to learn about loving himself before he gets to love someone else.

Johnny knows this too, he knows that they both only call just because they still feel compelled to the magic of that fateful winter New York day. He knows it in the way that Ten’s voice gets strained when he talks about his load upon load of projects and deadlines. Johnny knows it in the way that he always dismisses his monetary issues as nothing crucial during their calls.

It’s not that he doesn’t love Ten anymore, he just doesn’t trust the memory of him anymore. Johnny doubts it in the way he can no longer quote cheesy Winnie the Pooh anecdotes to him anymore. He is hesitant to let Ten inside his ever-changing world as time pulls them apart from one another. But this doesn’t mean he’s completely broken and consumed by this.

Johnny begins to thrive the day he moves out of his parent’s place in Flushing after high school comes to a close. He rents a place in Greenwich with Doyoung splitting their fees and expenses as they enroll in their separate universities, Johnny taking his offer at Parsons and Doyoung at NYU. Things are hard at first, especially when his parents tell him that they won't pay for his tuition. But Johnny takes it as a challenge and juggles two part time jobs at two different places and a freelance photography career on the side. He takes on Parsons for Ten.

He gets used to this lifestyle with much ease. When he turns 19, Johnny comes out to his parents. 5hey tell him that it’s wrong to love a boy, but he doesn’t mind, he’s now financially dependent on himself. Things get hard sometimes and there are weeks when he can only afford bread and jam before Doyoung’s mother sends homemade kimchi jjigae to aid his ache for his mother’s cooking.

Johnny continues to take photos, long after graduation and in every shot he sees Ten, in one way or another, in the imperfections of ancient buildings, in the faces of married couples celebrating their weddings. He doesn’t try to date anyone, despite the snaking line of girls and boys alike that were eyeing him in lectures. He thinks that in a way it betrays his memory of him, he doesn’t know that Tem has been seeing people.

It takes a year before Johnny considers the fact that freelance photography is more than enough to support his simple lifestyle, so he lets Doyoung lease with someone else as he takes off for the world. He gets a passport and explores countries far and wide, he visits France where he finds love seeping everywhere dazed by the aromatic scent of perfumes and the hearty aroma of baguettes.

He goes to South Korea, his parents’ home. And although they aren’t on speaking terms, he sends them a gift basket of goodies containing snacks from their childhood and skincare for his mother. He receives a letter in the mail addressed to Doyoung’s apartment for him, it’s from his father, he tells him that he’s sorry and that he’s proud of him. It includes a phone number for him to message and call.

It’s not that Johnny doesn’t search for Ten, he visits Bangkok 3 times in the 5 years since they’ve lost contact. He’s too prideful to try and reach out to Ten nor can he swallow his ego. Frankly he isn’t sure of what he’s looking for exactly, but he tries. His photographs aren’t only of things that remind of Ten, afterall the only physical object that holds him close to Ten is the sweater the former had chosen for him at the damned thrift shop somewhere in Koreatown.

But Johnny never gives up, he wonders if his efforts will pay off and whether that they’ll ever meet again.

He learns that he and Ten are strangers at the end of the day. He grows up and realizes that they are not the Sun and Moon. They'll nevet know whether or not their meeting that one fateful winter day could’ve just been a coincidence. The whole affair could have easily been an exaggeration or a romanticization of what truly happened that day. Whether what they had was real or not, Johnny has no way of figuring out for sure.

But if there’s anything he’s learned in the past decade, it’s that affection remains in the remnants of a relationship long after love exits the picture.

_End._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't forget to share your thoughts in the comments respectfully and to share some kudos if you enjoyed reading! Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ODETO10) and [Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/user/gymewm6sqkr42wxfdibu8612e?si=pY85msJ-T6m5IpJJ-AO8kw)


	5. The Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know how bothersome it is for writers to link music or playlists with their works but [this playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0SKXHKKXecXvJAkpMKmYfQ?si=kw3U0IH1SbmVEhYGJcHZ6A) was crafted especially by my friend and I.

**Meet Me In The Afterglow**  
It’s New Years Eve and Ten can’t believe that he’s at the beach. He thinks he’s had a drink too many as he sways dizzily, he feels delirious and sick. He can’t comprehend how he ended up here, perhaps he shouldn’t have taken Bambam’s offer to go to Pattaya for the weekend. He has a red cup on his left hand, filled with some punch that reminds him of simpler times back in sophomore year. It seems like a lifetime ago and he isn’t wrong, things have changed more than he’d like to admit. A decade can do so much to you.

And for a moment he basks in this, he takes in the inky black night sky, illuminated by vigorously sparkling fireworks that vary in colors. Ten wants to applaud the person who had arranged the exhibition because it's doing a fantastic job at amusing his drunken self. He reflects on the past decade, he reflects on himself, he’s 27 now. His mother is awfully arduous, she’s worried that he hasn’t got someone to depend on, someone to love. But Ten’s reached a point where he’s accepted himself, it’s been a hell of a ride but it's been one that he doesn’t regret taking. New York taught him all that he’s known but Bangkok has allowed him take all that into perspective and apply it into his life. 

Ten reminisces about his friends, their nightlife in Manhattan, he misses them and he wonders if they do too. Ten makes plans to call them in the morning or perhaps tomorrow night. Despite the circumstances the past few years has brought, he still hasn’t figured out time zones yet. But most of all he thinks back on his last night roaming around New York City, he thinks of Johnny. He wonders where he is, he wants to know if he’s still the romantic that he once was. Ten wonders whether Johnny still loves photography and whether or not he's achieved his dreams. And most of all, Ten questions whether Johnny still remembers him. 

There are a lot of things Ten takes into consideration as he downs the remaining liquid in his cup, most of which are concerns about love. He doesn’t know whether letting go of Johnny was the right decision. It’s been 5 years since they've last spoken to one ankther but the memory of the Korean-American man still seems so fresh. He’s now at the crowded shore where people are drinking and partying, he soaks his feet in the water letting it wash away the besmirched sand and his worries. He notices that there’s an awful lot of chatter in a mixture of different languages but what could he expect? Pattaya is a tourist trap and it milks the most money from foreigners.

Ten glances at his digital watch, its battery is dying quickly and frankly he can't care less about new year’s festivities especially with his friends gone to god knows where. He taps it swiftly and notes that it’s a minute until midnight, he decides that he’s had enough to drink and that he’ll be headed back to the hotel room that he had miraculously booked last minute. But he must’ve been distracted by his phone because he bumps into an incredibly tall figure.

He looks up and sees him. Johnny Suh, 6’2, dazed and tanned. It’s one of those moments where Ten is frozen and it feels like the whole world pauses for him too. 

“Ten.”

“Johnny.” 

And it all comes back like a flood of memories, the good and the bad, they all come crashing back to the both of them. 

_And as the fireworks burst alive like flowers that are in bloom, they do too._

“Romeo and Juliet did not know each other.  
It’s the shortest love that burns the brightest.  
Only the greatest stand the test of time.” 

[ In Winter, In Springs](https://dreaminghaos.tumblr.com/post/186072433758/in-winter-in-spring-jeon-wonwoo) \- [dreaminghaos](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/dreaminghaos)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I’m not sure if anyone will ever reach this part but it’s Emily. It’s currently 11.54 PM on April 15 2020. It’s been an hour since I’ve just finished this fic. I’m still hesitant on what to call it; debating between The Sun and the Moon, 8,651 Miles or Koi No Yokan. But I think I’m leaning more on the Sun and the Moon since it’s an NCT 127 reference but I dunno.
> 
> I cried when I typed the final sentiments, frankly working on this fic took a lot out of me and it showcased so many different angles of my emotional vulnerability. I poured my heart and personality into Johnny and Ten, they’re both so imperfect and so is their relationship but nonetheless it captured the essence of what I wanted to interpret through making it, which is love during one’s youth. 
> 
> It took a long time for me to figure out an ending for our protagonists just because I didn’t want to fuck them over. The epilogue (part one) was hard for me to write, because in a sense I had to insinuate that they fell out of love, and that what they shared in New York during Ten’s final night was an exaggeration and a romanticization of what they experienced. But hopefully I redeemed myself through epilogue part two.
> 
> I’ve always wanted to make a Sun is Also a Star fic ever since I first read that book when I was in 6th grade (Way too young but oh well) and now I’ve done it. If I’m being completely honest, this fic took more than the actual 5 months I took to type it all out. It took years, initially this was supposed to be a Taekook fic I wanted to write back in 2018 but gave up on in early drafts.
> 
> I’m glad that I decided to pick it back up last December though, and although there have been many times when I consider giving up or not finishing it, I’m glad I pushed through. Because not only does this fic encapsulate my improved writing style, it also has showcased how I’ve been for the past half a year. It’s insane to think that I’ve actually finished this to be honest. I’ve crossed off the one thing I’ve been aching to do for the past few years and that is to finish a complete fanfiction.
> 
> I think I’ll sincerely miss writing about Johnny and Ten and how they’re so flawed yet made for each other. What began as a project to cope with missing my favorite ship has suddenly become a project to discover and start to love myself. The insecurities I had are all projected in them, from their constant attempts to run away from their problems to how they constantly lie with themselves. It’s all me.
> 
> There’s still a lot of editing to do for now, I’ll also need a few beta readers to make sure I’m not fucking insane for putting this on the internet. There’s going to be a lot of vocabulary improvisions and improvements in the first 10ish chapters just because I’m not satisfied with it as I was skimming earlier. But besides that, I think I’m done. The story has come full circle and I’m pleased with it. I’ve overcome my ego and wrote a happy ending. (Bittersweet but a positive one nonetheless)
> 
> This work wouldn’t have been finished without my constant binge reading of Johnten drabbles on AO3 (most notably ([Long Nights and Daydreams](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14213976), [Troubleshoot Me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7745851) and many others) and Tumblr’s [@dreaminghaos](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/dreaminghaos)! Their works got me out of a slump in March where I hadn’t written in so fucking long because I was going through some IRL bullshit. Their works inspire me so much and it can be reflected in my writing and me as a person. I’ve actually chosen to use an excerpt from their Wonwoo fic [In Spring, In Winter](https://dreaminghaos.tumblr.com/post/186072433758/in-winter-in-spring-jeon-wonwoo) as the ending quote to this madman of a story.
> 
> It’s really fucking late now and I should probably stop typing, I’m excited to dive into the world of Johnny and Ten once more before I finish this for real tomorrow. 
> 
> \- It's early May now, I've finally come back to this fic and I think I'm really satisfied with it and I'm ready to upload it! I hope you enjoyed reading it! Let's be mutuals on[Twitter](https://twitter.com/ODETO10) and [Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/user/gymewm6sqkr42wxfdibu8612e?si=pY85msJ-T6m5IpJJ-AO8kw)


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